


Nothing Will Keep Us Apart

by Suphomie



Series: Tamed [2]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, PTSD, Past Rape, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:12:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: "Theo...?" he says hesitantly on the phone, voice shaking with anticipation. He has no idea what Theo's going to say, and every hair on his body is standing up."Stiles." Comes his voice. And god. Stiles melts at that familiar deep sound.(Sequel to 'I love you to death')





	1. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so.... I don't know. This exists now. I guess I wasn't ready to let this universe go yet. 
> 
> I was pretty okay with my ending, but I did leave it open for a reason. You can think of this as an unofficial sequel if you did enjoy the ending, or a continuation if you didn't.
> 
> This took way longer to write than I expected, I was trying to make it the best I could, so leave me some love!

The early morning sun shines in through the apartment kitchens tiny window, casting a bright light on the coffee in front of Stiles. Stiles rubs his tired eyes, picking up the mug and taking a sip of the bitter black liquid. He hears steps coming from the hall just before Scott steps into the room, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. The alpha yawns, leaning against the doorway and asking, "Couldn't sleep again?"

Stiles sighs. "No." He mutters, taking another sip of coffee. He hasn't had a good nights sleep in six months, not since.. _everything_. He's plagued by constant nightmares and he wakes up with panic attacks so bad that it feels like he's been punched in the chest and all the air has left his lungs. Which is completely unfair, because Stiles is doing everything he's supposed to. He's going to therapy, he's taking medication. He hasn't spoken to Theo since that night...

Theo. Stiles hasn't quite managed to get him out of his mind. He thinks about him all the time. But that's bullshit because he hasn't gone to see him, or accepted a single one of his calls, despite how tempting those two things have been over the last six months. Shouldn't he have gotten over everything by now? Shouldn't things feel normal again? But still, it feels like something's just... _off_ in his life. 

Scott flashes him a sympathetic look. Stiles looks away, sighing. That's another thing that just won't go back to normal, the way his friends treat him now. It's like he's fragile glass, and if they don't walk very carefully around him he'll break. He can't stand their pity or the sad looks they give him all the damn time. He wants them to just forget about all the bad shit that happened to him. They think they're helping, but they're just adding to the growing frustration that is his life. He just wants everything to be normal again.

"Oh, um," Scott says suddenly, walking over to the kitchen counter that's messy with papers and grocery bags. He picks up a white envelope and shows it to Stiles, saying, "I got the mail yesterday when you were at therapy. _He_ sent another letter."

They both know who _he_ is, but he and Scott don't really talk about Theo. In fact, Stiles doesn't think they've had a single conversation about Theo or Donovan, or that one night. Stiles stares at the white envelope for a moment. Despite it being months since Theo got sent to jail, he's still trying to contact him. Which definitely isn't helping with the whole recovery process. 

"Should I just throw it out?" Scott asks in a cautious voice, looking up. 

Stiles scratches the back of his head. "Oh, yeah," he says quickly, looking away. Scott crumples the envelope in his hand, throwing it into the trash. Stiles releases a breath, taking another sip of his coffee. He can't talk to Theo, he reminds himself. If things are ever going to be normal again, he has to just forget about Theo.

Scott eyes him for a moment before asking, "You know... we could talk about stuff if you want." Stiles's eyes widen a bit, as he continues, "About all the bad stuff he did. I mean, I know you... liked him or whatever when you were there. But you don't have feelings for him, do you?"

Stiles swallows. He still feels guilty about everything that happened that night. Theo knocked Lydia out, which left her in hospital for a few days and fought Scott until he was bloody on the ground. Then Stiles went with him. If his dad hadn't showed up when he did, Stiles would have just left them there. How the hell is he supposed to tell Scott that he still has feelings for him? "No, of course not. That guy was crazy." He lies with a slight laugh. He feels too ashamed of himself to tell anyone about the way he really feels; they just wouldn't understand.

Scott smiles and let's out a small chuckle himself. "That's good." He says, sounding almost proud, which makes Stiles' chest grow heavier with guilt. He grabs a mug out of the cupboard and starts pouring coffee into it as he says, "Everyone's coming over tonight for pizza," he takes a sip from the light blue mug. Great. Another night of his friends leaning in and asking in annoying soft voices ' _how are you?_ ', and him having to just smile and pretend that everything's perfect. Scott continues, "And my friend Steven is coming too."

Stiles searches his mind for Steven, and vaguely remembers him from school. "Cool," Stiles murmurs as Scott walks into the livingroom. He stares at the garbage can longingly for a moment before shaking it off. If he wants to be normal, he has to act like it. Fake it 'til you make it, right? Stiles sighs and takes another sip of his coffee. 

 

"So this kid starts just _lecturing_ me about communications, and I'm like.." Stiles is barely listening to Scott's friend, Steven, talk to him where they stand in the kitchen. Stiles takes a sip of beer out of his red solo cup, watching his pack talk amongst themselves in the livingroom. 

"Can you believe that?" Steven asks with a laugh. Stiles is silent for a moment until he realizes the question was directed at him.

"Uh, no." Stiles mutters. Steven laughs again, taking a bite out of his pizza. As soon as Steven got here, he briefly talked to Scott, then started talking to Stiles and now he won't leave him alone. It's weird, but this guy doesn't seem to take the hint that Stiles is really not interested in making any new friends right now. 

"So, you're not in school, right?" Steven asks. Stiles shakes his head, tapping a finger against the counter behind him. They're all taking the year off before they start college, something they were planning anyways, but Stiles doesn't think he could even manage in school anyways. Steven nods, saying, "I'm only doing it part time. I just broke up with my boyfriend, and he took the apartment, so I have to work two jobs." Stiles nods slightly, only half paying attention until he says, "Scott mentioned that you just got out of a bad relationship too."

Stiles' eyes widen and he snaps his head over to look at him. "Uh... I- I guess.." he murmurs. Why would Scott tell him that? Why would he tell anybody anything about what happened. The familiar sick feeling of anxiety creeps into his gut. 

"Don't worry," Steven says, flashing another smile, putting up a hand, "You don't have to tell me anything about it. Just- I know what it's like to be in a bad relationship.

Stiles barely nods, eyes finding Scott where he's standing in the living room, talking to Malia. Scott is watching him, but quickly looks away when Stiles catches him looking. Stiles furrows his brows as Steven switches tactics and says, "I really like your shirt where did you-" he puts his hand lightly on Stiles' forearm, and Stiles flinches aggressively away. Everyone looks over and Steven's eyes widen a bit in confusion as he pulls his hand away.

Stiles pulls away, rubbing his arm, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. He swallows, saying quickly, "Sorry, I uh- need to go to the bathroom." And then he walks swiftly from the kitchen, feeling concerned eyes on him as he goes.

As soon as he closes the door he lets out a deep breath, nearly collasping before catching grabbing the sink with two hand. He lets in a few shaky breaths, staring at himself in the mirror. He quickly looks away, pulling up his sleeve and touching the scar there. The bite that will never fully heal, a constant reminder of everything Donovan did to him. He tries to shake off the feeling of Steven's touch. He has a thing with _touching_ , especially in places where he has scars. Even sometimes just light touches when he's caught off guard can send him into a panic. 

Stiles takes a deep breath, then another and another until he's calmed down. He huffs out an annoyed breath and lowers his head, still leaning against the sink.

Several questions flow through Stiles' head. Why did Scott tell some random guy Stiles barely knows about his 'relationship'? Who else has he told? And most importantly; was he trying to set him up with a guy?

Something about that thought makes Stiles' stomach ache. He hasn't considered dating again. He still isn't even sure if what he and Theo did could be considered dating. They lived together. They kissed, and shared a bed, and they did some sort of sexual things. But the thought of doing those things with anybody else makes Stiles sick to his stomach, and he wonders why the hell Scott wants him to date some stranger.

Stiles takes in another deep breath and looks back at his reflection. Keep it together, he reminds himself. His friends can't know how much he's struggling. He has to just put on a brave face and hope that things will just go back to normal somehow. He has to be normal again.

 

Stiles ends up spending the rest of the night carefully avoiding Steven. Steven seemed to finally get the hint after a while and just hung around Scott instead. It was a relief, but that feeling of someone's touch couldn't leave Stiles' skin.

Stiles glances behind where he stands against the sink, soapy plate between his fingers. Scott is pushing all the cups and paper plates left behind into a garbage bag. Everyone piled out a few minutes ago and Stiles has bedn debating whether or not he should bring up what Steven told him. Before he has a chance to, though, Scott is asking, "So how'd you like Steven?"

Stiles swallows, looking back into the sink. "He was nice.." he says, placing the washed plate into the drying board and shutting off the water. He plays with his hands for a moment before asking, "You.. told him that I was in a bad relationship?"

Scott stops, looking over. "Well, yeah," he says, tying the bag shut, "I didn't tell him about _him_ or anything. I just thought since he was in a bad relationship, and you sort of were too.."

Stiles turns to look at him. "Why'd you tell him anything about me?"

"Okay, don't be mad," Scott says innocently, slight smile on his face as if he can't sense Stiles' growing anxiety, "But.. I gave Steven your number."

Stiles is at a loss for words for a moment. "You- you gave him my number?"

Scott nods. "He's really sweet, and I think he likes you. Maybe you two could get together or something." Stiles feels like he might throw up. He turns back to the sink and puts both hands on the counter, taking a deep breath. Scott cocks his head to the side, asking, "I'm sorry, did you really not like him? I should've asked first, he just seemed really into you."

Stiles shakes his head. "I- I don't want you to set me up with _anyone_."

"Why not?" Scott asks. Stiles turns again, about to tell him that he literally doesn't think he'd be able any kind of romantic relationship when he can barely even handle the none romantic ones, when Scott adds, "You said you were over _him_." Stiles' face falls. He swallows again, eyes darting to the floor instead of Scott. Scott continues, "So I thought that meant you were ready to date again."

"I-" Stiles sighs, "I don't think I am, alright?" He then mutters, "I don't think I want to date ever again."

"Sorry." Scott says, grabbing a bag of chips from off the table and rolling up the top, "I just... I don't know. I thought maybe you would be ready to.. get back to normal?"

Stiles' jaw twitches. "Well, the last time you set me up with somebody, it didn't work out very well." Stiles regrets it as soon as it bitterly leaves his lips. Scott's eyes widen and a wonded look crosses his face. He actually feels guilty about everything that happened. Stiles knows it wasn't his fault; there's no way he could've known Donovan was such a monster. Stiles knows Scott didn't mean it like that either, and he really hates making his best friend feel guilty, it just kind of came out in defense. 

"I'm gonna take the garbage out," Stiles mutters, taking the bag from Scott and rushing out of the apartment quickly. 

Several feelings fill Stiles as he walks to the dumpster in the alley next to their apartment building. Anxiety, frustration, overwhelming guilt. But the most prominent emotion is digust with himself. He throws the garbage bag into the dumpster forcefully then slams it shut with a yell. He huffs out a ragged breath. Then he collapses against the brick wall and starts sobbing.

Stiles pulls his knees to his chest and rests his head on top of them while painful sobs shake through his entire body. Why is this so hard? Why can't he just fucking get over it already? It's been months, yet he's still hung up on the alpha that kept him captive. 

And he shouldn't be. He knows, god he knows, he shouldn't be, but he is. And he can't even tell any of his friends, because he knows they just won't understand. How could they, Stiles barely understands, himself. He doesn't understand why he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and searches the bed for Theo. Or why sometimes when he talks to Scott he feels like he's talking to a stranger. He feels like everything's just _different_ and he doesn't know how to act or how to fix it.

Stiles wipes his wet face with the back of his sleeve. Jesus, he's crying in a fucking alleyway because his best friend tried to set him up on a date. He just wants to feel good again. Wants to forget about everything that happened to him six months ago, but some things just won't leave his head. All his scars aren't physical, can't be hidden by long sleeves and cover-up.

Stiles takes a deep breath and stares at the grimy brick wall in front of him. A sudden vibration stirs him from his near stupor. He pulls out his phone and looks at the screen. His breath catches a bit when he sees it's a call from a prison. More specifically, the federal prison where Theo is serving a life sentence. He calls sometimes. A lot when he first got convicted, almost daily, then petering out to once a week or less. Stiles stares at his phone screen with wide, still teary eyes.

He hasn't answered a single call. He feels guilty every time the ringing stops, but he can't talk to him. His therapist adviced him not to, as well as his friends constantly. They say that he's toxic, that he'll only manipulate him. But Stiles is also a little afraid of what Theo would even say. Is he mad? Does he hate him now? Because honestly... Stiles doesn't know if he could handle hearing that. 

But tonight... Stiles wipes his eyes again, clearing them of all moisture. His finger ghosts over the answer button. A little voice in his head is telling him not to do it. He can't be normal again if he talks to Theo. His friends would be disappointed with him. Disgusted with him. And god, not to mention the fit his dad would throw. But the main thing surging through Stiles' mind is how much he wants to hear Theo's voice.

He presses talk and holds his phone to his ear. A message starts playing informing him that an inmate is calling him and that the call will be recorded by the prison. It ends with " _Press one to answer_." Stiles takes a deep breath before pressing one.

"Theo...?" he says hesitantly on the phone, voice shaking with anticipation. He has no idea what Theo's going to say, and every hair on his body is standing up.

" _Stiles_." Comes his voice. And god. Stiles melts at that familiar deep sound. He didn't realize how much he really missed Theo until this moment. The voice curls around him like a snake coiling around his skin, his bones, every part of him. A hundred feelings flood him all at once, memories of that month with Theo. Theo continues, " _You have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice_."

Stiles' leg is shaking. "... how are you?" He asks, not knowing what else to. He thought out this conversation a million times in his head, but now that it's actually real, actually happening, he's kind of at a loss. He can't exactly tell Theo's emotions over the phone, but he doesn't seem to sound angry, which Stiles really can't decide is a good or bad thing.

" _I'm okay_." Theo answers. He takes a breath, then adds, " _I miss you_."

Stiles' fingers are nervously playing with the fabric on his plaid shirt. "I miss you too." He whispers, afraid that someone might hear him if he speaks any louder. It's strange to admit. It was hard to even admit it to himself, but here he is, confessing it to Theo himself.

Theo lets out a deep and breathy laugh. " _So why haven’t you come to see me?_ "

Stiles tenses. "You- you want me to?" He asks, debating whether or not he actually wants to.

" _Of course_ ," Theo says. He's definitely not angry. Or if he is, he's hiding it very well to lull Stiles into a false sense of security. He even sounds kind of happy. " _I want to see you. Smell you_ ," he huffs out a small chuckle. He takes in a sad breath and adds, " _Don't you want to see me_?"

Of course he does. He wants nothing more then to see Theo again, but he knows how wrong it would be to go visit him. But it's wrong to be talking to him at all, so he's kind of already crossed that line, right? Maybe one visit wouldn't be so bad. Maybe closure will make that guilty feeling in his gut finally disapear. "I'll come see you." He says in a vulnerable voice.

Stiles can practically hear Theo's smirk as he says, " _Good. What about tommorrow?_ "

Stiles anxiously twists the jeans covering his legs. "Okay."

Stiles hears some distant muttering on the other line, then Theo's sigh before he says, " _Listen, I've gotta go, but I'm really looking foward to seeing you again_ ," Stiles bites the nail on his thumb, " _Visiting hours are 2 to 6. I'll see you then_."

Stiles takes a deep breath. But just before Theo hangs up, he says, " _I love you_."

Stiles' breath catches. So Theo really doesn't hate him after everything. Stiles was sure he hated him; had nightmares that he hated him. But he still loves him. "I'll- I'll see you tomorrow." Stiles answers, because he can't make himself say it back. He doesn't even know if it would be true anymore.

Theo doesn't push him on it, but pauses for a moment. " _Okay. See you tomorrow_." He says finally. The line goes dead after that. Stiles takes a deep breath and lowers his phone, staring at the brick wall across the alley. He's gonna see Theo again tomorrow for the first time in months. He closes his eyes and rests his head on the cold stone wall.

 

"Hey," Stiles says, keys in his hands as he pokes his head into Scott's bedroom. Scott looks up from his desk. "I'm gonna go to therapy now."

Scott takes in a small breath. "You know you don't have to ask my permission, right?" He says in that now familiar sympathetic tone.

Stiles frowns. "Yeah, I know, Scott." he says exasperatedly, swinging his key in his hands. When he first got home, he was kind of afraid to leave the house without somebody's approval, but he's long since gotten over that little fear. "I was just telling you. See you later."

Just as he starts to walk away, Scott stands and calls, "Stiles, wait!" Stiles stops and looks back. Scott leans against his doorframe and sighs. "I'm really sorry about last night." Stiles sighs, but Scott continues anyways, "I should've known you weren't ready yet, and I shouldn't have given out your number without asking. When you're ready, you're ready, okay? No rush."

Stiles looks down. "It's fine. Really." He says, guilt hitting him like a fucking freight train. If Scott found out he was seeing Theo instead of going to therapy, he'd probably hate him. "It wasn't a big deal."

Scott smiles a little, but there's something not quite right with it. "Okay," he says quietly, "See you later."

"See you." Stiles says, turning quickly and walking down the hall. He takes a deep breath as soon as he shuts the front door. God, what the hell is he doing? He knows he shouldn't be seeing Theo, how bad it is for him. But he's going anyways.

 

The prison is cold, biting at the skin on Stiles' hands, the rest of him covered by a oversized flannel and jeans. He had to leave his phone, wallet, belt and keys in a tub at the front desk, then get thoroughly searched by two guards (which he'll have to take a few showers when he gets home to get the feeling of hands off of him). Ahead of him is along hall with a tall metal door at the end. Just through there is where he's going to see Theo for the first time in six months. 

To say Stiles is anxious is an understatement. He takes a lot of medication, which helps for the most part, but it's not really helping right now. Stiles doesn't know what to expect. Theo didn't seem mad over the phone, but he can't be happy, right? Stiles is the reason he's in jail. Not to mention he probably destroyed his criminal empire. If Stiles were him he'd be angry.

When he reaches the door, the guard leading him opens it. Stiles takes in a sharp breath before stepping through it. Inside is a big room, with about fifteen or so metal tables. There's a few full, with prisoners and their friends or families. There are a few guards against the cememt brick walls. Despite several people in the room, Stiles spots Theo right away.

He's sitting at a table near the back, hands cuffed together, guard standing just a dozen or so feet away. It's weird to see him restrained. He always seemed like this all-powerful, almost god-like figure. But seeing him look human makes Stiles' anxiety die down just a bit. Theo sees him almost as soon as his foot's through the door. He smiles brightly and stands. Stiles swallows and slowly walks over. 

"Hey." Theo says as he approaches the table. "Sit." He says, gesturing to the little metal stool across from him. Stiles does and Theo sits too. He looks Stiles over and then says with a smirk, "It's been a while."

Stiles nods, eyes searching Theo's entire body. He's dressed in a beige jumpsuit, the same as the other prisoners, with a tight, white long sleeved shirt underneath that clings to his body just enough to make out his muscles. He looks relatively the same, though he's grown a bit of stubble and his blonde hair is curly and unstyled. It looks a little longer too. But besides that, it's _him_. Like no time has passed at all.

"You look good," Theo says, blue eyes giving him another look over. "How are you? Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Yes, if taking care of yourself means never sleeping and hardly eating anything. "Yeah." Stiles responds anyways, scratching the back of his head. "How's prison?” He asks uncomfortably, “Is it as bad as people say it is?"

Theo shrugs casually. "It's not so bad. I miss my apartment. And eating good food," he huffs out a small laugh, "But it's not that bad. No one bothers me." Stiles wonders vaguely if the other prisoners are afraid of him. On the outside he's kind of a pretty boy, even now without his nice clothes and styled hair, but Stiles is pretty sure he'd tear anyone who tried to mess with him apart. 

Theo lets out a soft breath and looks him over. "I've really missed you." He says a moment later. "I wish you came sooner."

Stiles sighs. "I thought you'd be mad at me for... _everything_." He admits weakly. Which is not the only reason he hasn't talked to Theo, but it's definitely one of them. He got Theo arrested and sent to jail. Maybe he deserved it, but the guilt has been weighing on Stiles' mind since his dad told him Theo got a life sentence.

"I'm not mad at you," Theo says, resting his elbows on the table. "Nothing that happened that night was your fault, okay?"

Stiles will never admit how relieved he is to hear that. He feels like everything was all his fault, and while some of it probably was, it's really nice to know that Theo isn't angry at him for it. And yes, he knows he shouldn't care what Theo thinks, but he still feels stuff for him. Maybe it's not real love, but it's _something_ , and it hasn't gone away.

"Besides, how can I be mad at you?" Theo asks, smirk returning. "You're my weak spot."

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. It's weird to hear stuff like that now. He really has tried his best to bury all that stuff with Theo, and now it's all rising back up to the surface, suffocating him. "Why'd you want to see me so bad?" Stiles asks suddenly, "What the hell is so special about me?"

Theo stares at him for a few silent seconds, his smirk fading a little. "I missed you." He says again, this time more seriously. "You're my... _everything_. You're the only thing I've ever loved." He takes in a deep breath. "You have no idea how hard it's been, not hearing from you at all. I thought that.. I don't know, you moved on or something. That you forgot about me."

Theo seems genuinely hurt that Stiles hasn't talked to him, the pain is clear in his voice. Either he's an amazing actor or he really does love Stiles as much as he says. Stiles' gut fills with guilt at the second option. Theo looks down, swallowing, as if he hadn't meant to show so much vulnerability. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek before saying, "I haven't moved on, alright?" Theo looks back up. Stiles continues with a frustrated huff, "I'm not over you. Or _anything_ , for that matter. I didn't talk to you because I thought it would help me finally get over what happened. But... it hasn't." He sighs, then says quieter, "It feels like everything's just getting worse."

The air around them is tense for what feels like a long time. The other visitors in the room fill the air with chatter, but for Stiles everything is silent. Then Theo finally says, "Maybe you shouldn't be trying to move on." Stiles looks up from the table and narrows his eyes. Theo continues, "I know I put you through a lot. I didn't mean for you to get caught in the middle of my shit. I'm sorry that I ended up hurting you, I never wanted to hurt you." Stiles stares at him with wide eyes. Theo takes his hand gently from across the table with his, despite the cuffs. "I do still love you, Stiles. I really do. And I don't know what I'd do if this was the last time I ever heard from you."

Stiles stares at their intertwined hands for a long moment. He doesn't pull away, despite knowing he should. This is a dangerous conversation. If Stiles had the sense, he'd walk out right now and change his number. Unfortunately, after six months of trying to get over a guy and then seeing him again, his sense is a little askew. "So what?" Stiles asks, still looking at their hands, "I'm supposed to come visit you in prison everyday?"

"I know this isn't... ideal." He runs a tumb over Stiles' knuckles. "But we can make it work. I don’t want to go another six months without hearing from you." He looks Stiles over again, adding softly, "Don't you want to see me again?"

Stiles sighs. "... yeah."

A smirk crosses Theo's face, and Stiles can't tell if it's a genuinely happy one or a a victorious one.

 

Stiles stares at the building across the street from the diner he's sitting in, distractedly playing with the straw in his soda. He looks away from the window and back to Lydia, who's placing a small forkful of grilled chicken into her mouth. Stiles hardly leaves the house besides therapy, so Lydia forces him out to lunch once a week. Stiles doesn't actually mind so much. Lydia isn't as weird around him as the rest of the pack. She seems to be more understanding of how he feels, at least. From what the pack's told him, she had a bunch of visions that helped them locate the apartment. She aparently felt some of his pain, so out of everyone Stiles supposes she'd get how he feels the most.

Lydia takes a sip of her iced tea and then asks, "When's the last time you talked to your dad?"

"Couple of days ago." Stiles recalls his dad stopping by unexpectedly with groceries, claiming he just bought too much stuff for himself, when they both know he was just worried Stiles wasn't properly taking care of himself.

Lydia nods as Stiles moves around the fries on his plate, burger sitting next to them, uneaten besides a single bite. Lydia furrows her brows in concern. "Not hungry?"

Stiles glances up. It's not that the food is unappealing, he thinks it has something to do with stress, and a little guilt about going to see Theo and not telling anybody about it. "I ate earlier." He says to ease her concern, but judging by her face the lie doesn't work. 

"Okay." She says, dropping her fork and looking Stiles right in the eyes. "What's wrong?" Stiles furrows his brows, but she adds, "You seem distracted. Did something happen?"

Stiles looks down. He takes in a sharp breath before cautiously starting, "...how angry would you be at me if I talked to Theo?"

Lydia tenses. Even though she understands more than most, they don't really talk about it. Stiles is sure she'd be willing to if he ever wanted to, but he's never brought it up. She looks surprised for a moment before regaining composure and taking a deep breath. "I wouldn't be _mad_ at you." She says calmly after a moment. "Have you been thinking about talking to Theo?"

Stiles scratches the back of his neck. "Thinking about it." He lies. He doesn't even know why he's asking. He already knows what her answer will be."

Lydia purses her lips. "I don't think it's a good idea." Stiles sighs, "You've spent all this time recovering, not talking to him. Trying to cope with everything he did to you."

"He didn't hurt me. Not compared to..." Stiles trails off.

"No." Lydia says, looking him up and down. " _However_ , he wouldn't let you leave him. And a relationship without consent isn't really a relationship."

Stiles supposes that's true. If he had a choice in the beginning, he wouldn't have lived with Theo. Lydia takes another breath, then asks, "Have you told Scott?"

" _No_." Stiles says quickly. Scott would have a fucking meltdown if he knew Stiles was even considering contacting Theo. In his mind, Theo is an evil monster that kept him chained up in a dungeon or something equally despicable. To be fair, Stiles never really corrected him. He simply wouldn’t understand that there was more to the situation than captor/captive. "Don't tell him," he adds with a hint of desperation, "He'll just get upset."

Lydia nods. "I won't." She says, "And if you want to talk to him, if you think that it will give you closure, then you should." Stiles' eyes widen in surprise. "But just.. don't forget who he is. He treated you like you were his property. He didn’t really love you." 

Stiles nods slightly, stuffing his straw into his mouth. He’s thought about that a lot. Theo has his own strange version of love, but maybe that isn’t something Stiles should be okay with. Maybe he deserves normal love, whatever that is. "I don't know if I will, I was just... thinking about it. I probably won’t.” he murmurs guiltily, turning to his uneaten food.

 

“I don’t like keeping stuff from them,” Stiles says across the table. He slides his rook across the chess board, then looks back up at Theo across the table. “I put them through so much shit already.”

Theo examines the chess board on the metal table. This is the second time Stiles has skipped therapy to visit Theo. He wasn’t as anxious this time, though the guards searching him is something he’ll never get used to. This time Theo doesn’t have handcuffs on, and there are less people in the visiting center, only one or two visitors and a handful of guards. Theo looks up, and says, “Then tell them.”

“That would be so much worse.” Stiles says, as Theo moves his knight strategically, allowing him to take Stiles’ pawn during his next turn if Stiles doesn’t move it. “They’ll hate me.” Stiles moves his pawn randomly, not really paying attention to the game, more on his growing stress about this. His friends will find out eventually if he keeps seeing Theo. Yet here he is, playing a game with him.

“You shouldn’t care so much what they think.” Theo says, looking up, “You hold them on such a high pedestal, but they’re not perfect either. They don’t know what’s best for you.”

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Well, you didn’t really give them much of a reason to believe you’re not as terrible as they thought.” Theo tilts his head, so Stiles comtinues, “You almost killed Scott, and you put Lydia in the hospital. You would’ve killed all of them.”

Theo’s eyes linger on him for a moment before looking back down at the board, emotion not quite discernible. “And I said I was sorry about that night. I should’ve...” he searches momentarily for the right words, “..handled things differently.”

Stiles wonders if he really means it. Sure, he probably _does_ wish that he handled things differently, in a way that didn’t end with him getting arrested. But if he could do that night over, he’d probably make sure Scott, Lydia, and anyone else that got in his way were dead. Stiles knows he shouldn’t be seeing someone who wants his pack dead, but here he is. 

Stiles watches Theo capture one of his bishops. “So what is this?” Stiles asks suddenly. Theo looks up and tilts his head slightly. Stiles swallows and adds, “ _This_. I came back to see you. And you said you.. _loved_ me. So, what is this? What are we?”

Theo seems to think this over for a second. “We’re still boyfriends.” He says casually. When Stiles’ eyes narrow, he asks, “What?”

Stiles shrugs. “I just didn’t know that’s what we were before.”

Theo smirks and let’s out a small laugh. Stiles furrows his brow in confusion. “Well, we lived together.” He explains, “We went out together. We made out on the couch late at night. We did some... other stuff,” He laughs, “What else would we be?”

Stiles looks him over. “It wasn’t that simple.” He says, moving one of his chess pieces without even looking at the board. “You wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I saved your life-“

“Yeah, and then you just decided we were in a relationship.” Stiles interrupts. “You didn’t care if I wanted it or not.”

Theo tilts his head. “We were happy together. You can’t say that we weren’t.”

Stiles sighs, but he can’t really argue that. Being with Theo _did_ bring him some happiness. More the feeling of safety than anything, but Stiles really did believe he was in love by the end. He still might be in love. He really missed Theo when they were apart. “Do you realize how fucked up whatever we had was? How fucked up it still is? You wanted my friends dead and wouldn’t let me leave you.”

Theo looks him over. “... fine. Maybe we weren’t the healthiest relationship.” Stiles rolls his eyes at the understatement. “But we were good together. We made eachother happy. That’s why you came back, isn’t it?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t know why I came back.” He mutters.

Theo smirks again. “It’s because you love me.” He says confidently, like he’s sure it’s true. “And you know I love you too.” 

“You’re pretty cocky for a guy behind bars.” Stiles says. Theo chuckles and moves his queen across the board. Stiles sighs. Theo’s kind of right. Stiles came back to see him because he still feels _something_ towards him, whatever that something might be.

“Hey.” Theo says after a moment, looking up from the chess board and taking one of Stiles’ hands. Stiles looks up at him, into his eyes. “I’m always gonna love you. No matter what happens.”

Stiles’ brows furrow. Theo’s tone is suddenly serious. “What’s gonna happen?” He asks, confused.

Theo’s eyes linger for a moment, then an easy smile forms over his lips. “Nothing, I just need you to know that.” He says casually. He squeezes Stiles hand and then pulls away, instead moving his knight and capturing one of Stiles’ rooks. Stiles stares at him for a moment, then shakes off the strange feeling he’s getting.

 

Stiles walks down the hall with three plastic bags between his hands. There’s rain dripping off his coat, and he’s shivering a bit from the mid January air still lingering on his skin. He reaches his door and he’s fishing for the keys in his pocket when the door swings open. He jumps and nearly drops his groceries when he sees Scott standing on the other side.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles exclaims, “You scared the shit out of me.” He looks at Scott and is confused when he doesn’t respond. He actually looks kind of concerned. Stiles furrows his brows and pushes his way inside while saying, “Were you waiting for me to come home?“

As he places his bags down on the counter, he notices that Scott is being strangely silent. He looks over and frowns at Scott’s still concerned face. He’s wearing a nice button-down and slacks. Stiles remembers suddenly that he’s supposed to be going out with Kira tonight, then go on a trip for the weekend with her. “What’re you still doing here?”

“I saw your dad today. He said he ran into your therapist at the store.” Scott says. Every bone in Stiles’ body goes cold and he freezes. He continues, “He said that you missed your last two sessions.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything for a long, tense moment. He feels sickness creeping into his gut. Before he has to chance to respond, or lie, or say anything at all, Scott asks, “Where were you when you skipped therapy?”

There’s something knowing in his voice, letting Stiles know that it would be pointless to lie to him. He sighs and looks down. “I went to see Theo.”

Scott takes in a sharp breath and looks away. He looks wounded, like Stiles has just punched him in the gut. “I’m sorry,” Stiles says guiltily. This is what he’s been trying to avoid all this time, making any of the people he care about look like that. 

“Why?” Scott asks, shaking his head, “Why- after everything- why would you see _him_ ,” he spits the word out like poison. “When did you even start talking to him again?”

“It was just a few days ago,” Stiles tries to assure him, as if that’ll help at all, “It was after our party- I was upset, and he called, and I just... I’m so sorry.”

“What do you think is going to happen?!” Scott yells, making Stiles flinch in surprise. “That you can just date him or something? He hurt you, Stiles. He forced you to be with him and manipulated you into thinking you liked him. You said you were over him, why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“ _Why_?” Stiles asks, eyes wideing a bit. “Because of-“ he gestures between them, “ _this_. Because I knew you’d hate me if you found out I still have feelings for the guy who almost killed you.” He looks away from Scott’s hurt face. “I know I shouldn’t, okay? I just... I can’t help it. I’m- I’m sorry.”

The apartment is silent for a moment. Scott is staring at him, but stiles is carefully avoiding his eyes. “... I don’t hate you.” Scott says finally. Stiles slowly looks up. “It’s.. I know it’s not your fault that you still.. have feelings for him.” Scott says it like it’s hard for him to understand, “I’m not mad, I just- I don’t want you to get hurt. When we were looking for you, I thought we’d never find you,” Stiles looks back down, “And then when we did, you didn’t want to come back with us. You looked _afraid_ of us. And _he_ caused that.”

“I know.” Stiles says weakly. “I-I know it’s fucked up. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you about it.”

“You can tell me anything, Stiles. You’re my bestfriend. There’s nothing you could say that would make me hate you.” Scott says, much calmer now. He takes a deep breath, and looks down, “It’s okay that you still have feelings for him. But- but he hurt you. You can’t forget that.”

“I know.” Stiles says again, quieter this time. He glances at the clock on the stove and then says, “Shouldn’t you get going? Kira’s probably wondering where you are.”

Scott looks at the clock to. “No, it’s fine, we’ll just go next weekend-“

“Scott, no,” Stiles says, “You should go Scott. You haven’t gone anywhere with her in months, don’t stay because of me.”

Scott frowns, obviously not wanting to go. “Last time I went away you-“

“That’s not gonna happen again.” A chill runs through Stiles’ body. Nothing that terrible can ever happen again, not because Scott is going away for just two nights a few hours away. Stiles’ shit has effected his life enough, it shouldn’t effect his love life too. 

Scott looks concerned for a moment, then nods. “Okay.” He says in a small voice, taking a weak breath. “Okay. But I’ll text you later, and then again before we go to sleep.” Stiles nods as Scott grabs his coat from off the back of the couch. He’s used to Scott checking up on him constantly whenever he’s out. He pulls his coat over his body, then hesitates slightly before leaving.

Just before he does, Scott pulls him into a tight hug. Stiles tenses for a moment before relaxing into his bestfriend’s arms. He wraps his hands around his back and rests his head on his shoulder. It’s warm, protective. It lasts for a long time in complete silence before Scott whispers, “Promise me you won’t see him again.”

Stiles swallows. “I promise.” He whispers back. Scott gives him one last squeeze, then pulls away. Stiles offers a crooked, weak smile, to which Scott replies with one of his own. “See you.” Stiles says at last. Scott nods, and then he’s gone.

 

Stiles is almost asleep on the couch, with the TV playing quietly in the background and an empty container of takeout food on the coffee table, when the sound of knocking rings through the apartment. He sits up and blinks his eyes of sleepiness before sitting up. Stiles furrows his brows and glances at the clock that reads 10pm. He wonders who could be coming around this late, as Scott left yesterday night and Lydia would’ve called first. He opens the door groggily and sees his dad on the other side, a couple of bags from the comvience store down the street in his hands.

“Dad?” He asks, rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Hey kiddo.” His dad says, walking in. He’s still in his uniform, so he must’ve just gotten off his shift. He places his bags down on the counter while Stiles closes the front door behind him.

“What’re you doing here so late?” He asks, leaning against the side of the couch.

“I picked you up that movie you wanted,” he pulls a DVD case from the bag and looks at it curiously. He puts it down and the starts pulling out bags of candy and chips, “And I brought you some junk to eat while you watch it.”

Stiles tilts his head to the side. “That’s the only reason you came over at 10 on a Saturday night after your shift?”

His dad sighs and stops. “No.” He says. He walks over and says, “Why don’t you have a seat?” Stiles tenses. That’s never a good thing to hear. He slowly sits down on the couch while his dad takes a seat on the chair across from it. His dad sighs again, before saying, “I got a call from the prison they’re holding Theo in earlier.”

Stiles’ mind floods with panic. Oh god, now his dad knows too? If Scott’s reaction was bad, there’s no telling how the hell his dad is gonna react. Stiles opens his mouth to speak when his dad continues, “... Theo’s dead.”

It’s like the whole world goes quiet for a minute. The sound of the TV in the background dies out, the dog in the apartmemt two doors down stops barking. It’s just... nothing. “... what?” Stiles asks, thinking maybe he heard him wrong. The logical part of Stiles’ brain knows he didn’t, but it’s also searching for possible reasons as to how this could be true. He just saw Theo three days ago, how could he be dead? 

His dad sighs again. He puts on his standard cop voice to say, “Two guards found his body in his cell this morning. He hanged himself.”

“W-what?” Stiles repeats, not able to say anything else. He feels... well, he doesn’t know how he feels. Strange. Like he might be sick. 

“I’m sorry,” Dad says, placing a comforting hand on his sons knee. “I knew you’d want to know.”

Stiles stares at the floor for a moment. “He killed himself?” Stiles asks distantly, void of any emotion. He wonders if it’s because of him. Did he say something wrong? Was prison really that terrible? Stiles thinks over possible answers, but it simply does not make sense. Theo wouldn’t kill himself. He just _wouldn’t_ , Stiles knows he wouldn’t.

“Yes.” His dad says. He scratches the back of his neck with his hand, obviously not knowing what to say. He hated Theo. He wasn’t content when he got life in prison, he wanted him to get the death sentence or something. He’s probably glad he’s dead. Stiles’ stomach hurts at that thought. _Theo’s dead_? “Listen, kid... I’m sorry. But you know this had nothing to do with you, right? He was a very disturbed person, it’s not your fault that this happened.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmurs, still staring intently at the floor beneath him. But it must’ve been his fault, right? Six months without an incident, then when Stiles sees him he kills himself? That’s not just coincidence. His dad rubs his back comfortingly, saying something that Stiles isn’t listening to.

“Are you okay?” He asks when Stiles tunes in.

Stiles looks up with wide eyes. “I- yeah.” He mutters. He clears his throat, saying, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s.. it’s fine.”

“You don’t have to be fine.” His dad assures him. But Stiles _does_. He didn’t love Theo. Theo hurt him, he kept him locked up, he hurt his friends, wanted to kill them. And now he’s dead. He has to be okay with that, he can’t cry because the killer that forced him into a relationship is dead. 

Stiles stands, taking a deep breath. “But, really, I am.” He walks over to the kitchen and starts unpacking the rest of the bags. “I’m just surprised. And- and tired.”

His dad frowns, standing as well. “I can stay while you fall asleep-

“No, I’m fine.” He says again, but his hands are shaking where he’s holding a bag of twizzlers. “Really. Go home, I just need some sleep.”

His dad looks concerned. “I can call Scott, I’m sure he’d come home early- or Lydia. She’d come over and keep you company.”

“I don’t need company.” He says in his most casual voice. “Really, dad, please. I-I just want to be alone right now.”

His dad stands in the livingroom for a moment, frowning. “Okay.” He says slowly. “Okay. But call me if you need me, okay, kiddo? You’re allowed to be upset about this.”

“I know, dad.” He says. His dad walks over and pulls him into a hug. Stiles pats his back and says, “Really, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” His dad says. He pulls away. “I love you. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Stiles says, watching him as he makes his way through the room, back to the front door. Once he’s gone and the door is shut, Stiles looks down. He takes in a shaky breath. He has no idea how he’s supposed to feel about this. He probably shouldn’t feel like all the air is leaving his lungs, right? Stiles forces in another breath, grinding his teeth together.

 _Theo’s dead_ is all his brain keeps repeating, over and over again. How could Theo kill himself? Why would he kill himself? Stiles’ reeling mind vaguely recalls that strange thing he said at Stiles’ last visit. Was this what he was referring to? Had he been planning this? Stiles takes another deep breath, then another, but he can’t seem to get enough air.

He touches his flushed cheeks and his hand comes back wet. He sniffs and wipes his face with the back of his sleeve, taking a seat on the couch again. Theo’s dead and it’s probably his fault. His stomach is tying itself into knots and he feels like he’s about to throw up.

He takes another deep breath and puts his head in his hands. It all just seems impossible. He always thought of Theo as unkillable. As this immortal, god-like figure. But maybe that’s just because he seemed that way when Stiles was with him. Maybe he really wasn’t as powerful as he seemed. Stiles pulls his knees to his chest and buries his head in them.

 

“Stiles.” Stiles hears a voice saying, almost waking him from his sleep. He slowly opens his eyes, disoriented in that way you get when you’re not quite fully awake. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, just remembers laying in the dark for a few hours, crying a little and fighting off a panic attack. “Stiles,” he hears again, this time accompanied by a hand shaking his shoulder lightly.

Stiles makes a small, groaning sound. The hand shakes him again, waking him fully this time. He turns over in bed and looks up to see who’s here. It’s dark in the room, but Stiles can easily see Theo looking down at him.

“Theo?!” Stiles squeaks out, sitting up immediately. And he wasn’t just seeing things- it really is Theo. He’s in a dark hoodie and jeans, hair a mess and face a little pale. 

“Hey, baby.” Theo says with a smirk, voice far too casual. Stiles stares at him with wide eyes as Theo stokes his cheek. “Surprised to see me?”

“You’re dead.” Stiles says immediately, moving away from the touch. He looks down at his fingers and counts all ten. This is real. How can this be real? 

Theo laughs, deep and dark. “ _Theo Raeken_ is dead.” He says, moving his hands to Stiles’ waist. “I faked it to get out.” He runs his hands over his hips, looking down, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to touch you.”

Stiles continues to stare at him in shocked silence, having no idea what to say. He doesn’t get another chance to, though, as Theo leans in and kisses him intensely. It’s weird that after so long this still comes so naturally, kissing. Like they’re back in the apartment, resting on top of the leather couch, Theo in between his legs, strong arms wrapped around him. It’s a passionate kiss, like Theo is trying to make up for lost time. He can’t seem to keep his hands of him. Stiles pulls away at last, panting a bit. Theo stares at his lips with lust in his eyes.

Stiles takes in a sharp breath. “Wh-what the hell- what?” Not the most eloquent of sentences, but Stiles is kind of reeling right now. He just spent the whole night crying because Theo died, but now he’s here, kissing him. It feels like a dream, but he knows it’s not.

Theo licks his lips and pulls back, still holding Stiles’ hands in his. “I know, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t risk getting caught.” He runs a hand through his curled blond hair, “I used wolfsbane to slow my heartbeat, enough for them to think I was dead. I’m sorry if I scared you. I would’ve come sooner, but the poison took a while to wear off.”

Stiles tries to process the information, but he’s having a little trouble. He has pretty good reason to. The last time they saw outside of the prison, Theo would stop at nothing to take him away, and Stiles has a creeping suspicion that that’s the way this night is headed. “So- so- what are you doing here?”

Theo looks at him strangely. “...I thought that you would be a little more happy to see me.” He comments.

Stiles’ jaw clenches. “I thought you were _dead_ ,” He says indignantly. 

Theo sighs. He squeezes Stiles’ hands and says, “I know, I know. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m not. And we have to get going.”

“Get going?” Stiles asks anxiously. 

“Yeah. We’re getting out of town.” He explains, running his thumbs over Stiles' hands, “And this time you’re coming with me.” He flashes a dark look, making Stiles’ body fill with nerves.

“What if I don’t want to?” Stiles asks. He doesn’t know whether or not he actually wants to go with him, but he knows he can’t. He can’t put his friends through this again. 

Theo’s jaw tightened for a moment. “You don’t?” He asks, narrowing his eyes cruelly. “Don’t forget that I’m the one that took you in after Donovan raped you.” He throws the word out so mechanically, but it makes Stiles’ chest tighten in panic. He’s not over what happened with Donovan. That’s something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over, and has tried desperately to supress. Theo’s grip on his hands tighten as he continues, “You’re still mine.”

Stiles pulls his hands away aggressively and stands. “I never asked to be yours.” He says angrily. “I never asked for any of this.”

Theo sighs. “I know you didn’t. But I knew from the moment I saw you that I wanted you.” He takes a step towards him, “And I know you fell for me too, Stiles. That’s why you have to come with me.”

Stiles scratches at his hand nervously. He did fall for Theo. It was unhealthy; toxic- but it did happen on some level. He’s come to terms with the fact that he still has those feelings. If he could make them all go away, he would, but that’s not how life works. Still, though... he can’t go with him. He can’t put Scott and his dad and the rest of his friends through that again. He can’t hurt them again. And they’d really hate him if they knew he went willingly with Theo.

“I _can’t_.” Stiles says, voice cracking pathetically. “It’s not healthy. It’s- it’s- it’s like a fucking _sickness_.”

Theo takes his hands again and looks him intently in the eyes. “I don’t care.” He says simply. “I’m not going to live without you.” 

The statmemt isn’t said intense, or dramatic. He just says it simply, like it’s just a fact. Stiles stares at him for a moment, mouth open a bit, eyes a little wide. Then he looks down, swallowing. He pulls his hands from Theo’s grip. “I still can’t do that to Scott, or my dad, or...” he trails off and sighs, “I can’t do that.”

Theo clenches his teeth inside his mouth at the mention of Scott and his dad. He definitely hates them. “So that’s what this is about? That little pack?” He asks, seemingly holding back fangs. 

“That’s not the only reason.” Stiles murmurs. It’s not the only reason, but really, it’s the main one. He cares about his pack more than anything. They’re the reason he wanted to get better in the first place. If he didn’t have them, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave Theo at all. They’re important to him and he doesn’t want to let them down, especially not Scott.

“But it’s the one that’s keeping us apart, isn’t it?” Theo asks, voice a little distant. Stiles hates how well he can read him. He doesn’t answer, but Theo doesn’t seem to need one. He looks down for a moment, then back up, “Fine. That’s fine. We’ll just have to take care of that.”

Stiles’ stomach fills with sudden panic and his head shoots up. “Take care of it?” He asks nervously. He hopes he’s misreading that, but the stupid logical side of his brain is telling him that he’s reading it exactly right.

“Mmm..” Theo hums. He steps closer to Stiles and Stiles tries his best not to step away. “We both know that they’ll try to get you back if you leave with me. And I can’t have anyone knowing I’m alive.” He grits his teeth and grinds out, “I’m not gonna let them take you away from me again.”

Stiles mind races with about a million thoughts. First and foremost; he can’t have Theo kill any of his pack. “Theo, you can’t.” He says urgently, on full alert now.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Theo says, brushing a piece of Stiles’ hair behind his ear. “You know that. This is the only way to be together.”

“No it’s not.” Stiles says quickly. Theo tilts his head to the side, so Stiles takes it as a sign to continue, “They think your dead. If I leave, they won’t know that I’m with you.”

Theo is silent for a moment. Stiles’ heart beats rapidly in his chest and he feels like he might have a panic attack if he doesn’t calm down. “I’m listening.” Theo says finally.

“I can tell them th-that I moved out or something. I’ll leave a note. They won’t come looking for me if they think I don’t want to be found.” His voice is shaky and his breath is coming out too rapidly. 

Theo ponders the idea for a moment. “Fuck.” He mutters to himself. Then he sighs. “Fine. Fine..” he huffs out a laugh and looks back up at Stiles, “You really are my weak spot, aren’t you?”” Theo looks around and sees Stiles’ phone on his night stand. He takes it and says, “If you keep in touch with them they won’t get suspicious.” Stiles lets out a relieved breath as Theo stuffs the phone into his jeans pocket. Theo leans in and says quietly, “But if they do come after you, then...”

“.. then you can.. do whatever you want.” Stiles finishes reluctantly.

Theo smirks and puts a hand on Stiles’ waist. “Good..” he whispers, fingers dancing across the fabric covering his hips. He leans in and kisses him again, more gentle this time. Stiles doesn’t kiss back at first, allowing himself to be gently pulled in closer and closer. Then, his lips respond to Theo’s. It’s like he can’t even help it. It’s so familiar. It’s like a drug, no matter how hard he tried to quit, he’s pulled back in. Theo’s tongue is like smoke inside of his mouth; digusting, yet addicting. Wrong. Toxic. Sick. But he can’t stop. He doesn’t until Theo pulls back, one hand still on his waist, the other still in his hair. Theo laughs breathily, still inches from Stiles’ mouth. “Now start packing,” he says, smiling, “Bring everything you need, you’re not coming back.”

Stiles nods slightly, licking his bottom lip. He steps away from Theo and over to his dresser. He packs a duffle bag with clothes aimlessly, head and stomach hurting. After a few minutes, Theo wraps his arms around Stiles’ middle and says, “I almost forgot,” he pulls his hand into view, “Look what Tracy found when she was packing my stuff at the apartment.”

Stiles looks at his hand and sees a thin golden ring sitting in his palm. He takes it slowly. The only thing that belonged to him in Theo’s apartment. The first night Stiles was back with Scott, he thought that maybe he lost it, or Scott hid it. But now he remembers taking it off to shower and leaving in on the sink. He slides it onto his ring finger like it never left. Theo kisses the side of his neck and moves away. 

“It’ll be fine, Stiles.” Theo assures him as Stiles stuffs all the clothes he can into his duffle bag. “I love you. Things are going to be different this time; I’ll give you more freedom. I’ll let you talk to your friends. You’ll have your own stuff. I promise that I’ll make it better.”

It’s honestly hard to tell if Theo’s serious or if these are all empty promises. It probably doesn’t matter. He’s Theo’s again. He’s been Theo’s, he just forgot for a little while. It’s wrong, he knows. But... but it’s also okay, in a strange way. Theo has his issues, but he does seem to love Stiles, in his own twisted way. And it seems that there’s no way to get away from Theo.

... and Stiles isn’t sure if he even wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please PLEASE, leave me a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> By the way, even though Teen Wolf's over, I'm not. I'm gonna keep writing steo. So don't worry about that, I'm here to stay :)
> 
> Also... should I continue this? Let me know what you think. I might not, I'm not great with sequels, but if enough people want it I'll consider it.


	2. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey, quick thing- sorry to everyone who read that small chapter snipet before I had a chance to delete it. I posted it by accident. Sorry if it confused you lol)
> 
> That being said, I decided to continue! I’m not sure how long this will be, but I’ll figure it out as we go. Leave me a comment if you enjoy!

Theo rubs his hand over his tired eyes, focusing on the dark road ahead of him. It’s nearly morning now, Theo’s been driving for hours. He wants to get at least 100 miles between him and The prison before he even thinks about sleeping. They may think he’s dead, but he’s not taking any chances. He spent the last six months in that shit hole, he doesn’t intend to spend a second more.

Theo glances at the passengers seat next to him. Stiles’ head is resting on the window, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted, and his brows furrowed a bit, the way they always get when he sleeps. Theo smiles to himself. After months of not seeing him, Theo really missed him. He was angry at first. Especially as the months ticked by and he didn’t hear a word from him. But Stiles truly is his weak spot; he simply can’t stay mad at him. Besides, it’s not all Stiles’ fault. He’s just confused. That infuriating pack of his was probably poisoning him against him. 

Theo should’ve killed that pack. That was his plan earlier tonight, kill all the people who’d be a threat to him. But Stiles just has these beautiful sad eyes... Theo couldn’t do it. Besides, Stiles is smart. He knows that Theo’s not playing around, and if he tries to leave again, Theo will make true on his threats. And this plan of making them think he ran away can work, despite how annoying it is that Theo won’t have the satisfaction of ripping them apart.

They put a serious halt on his business. Tracey is running things for now, but very discretely. Over a dozen of his betas got put in jail, not to mention that a few of Donovan’s friends defected after he killed him. The fighting ring is shut down for the time being, the only thing that’s making money is the drugs and a few deals with other packs. And the fact that there’s nothing Theo can do about it at the moment is annoying. Everyone thinks he’s dead besides Tracey, (who helped him with this plan by sneaking the wolfsbane into the prison, bribing the coroner to cremate a body that looked similar to him, and packing the car with the stuff from his apartment) and now Stiles. This all could’ve been avoided if he’d just dragged Stiles out of the hospital that night. 

Well, really this all could’ve been avoided if he didn’t go after Stiles then. Maybe he could’ve waited a while, then took him when no one was expecting it, when they let their guard down. But really, he just couldn’t help himself. He was livid when he saw that they took Stiles, he needed him back. Stiles is so much more than a pretty pet, he’s _his_.

Besides, he couldn’t do that to Stiles, make him believe that Theo didn’t care enough to get him back. Theo noticed the way his eyes were red rimmed and how hoarse his voice was when he woke him up earlier. The way his eyes widened impossibly wide and his heart started hammering when he saw it was Theo waking him up. He’d been crying because he thought he was dead. He still loves him, despite what he claims. 

Stiles shifts slightly in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and moving his head so Theo can make out his face better. Theo glances down at the gold band on his finger. He’s still all Theo’s. And he’s sure that Stiles knows that too.

 

The early morning sun shines in through the windshield, illuminating the egg McMuffin sitting in Stiles’ lap. He picks half-heartedly at the bread, staring at Theo ripping into a burger with animalistic intent, like he hasn’t had anything to eat in years. Theo must notice the staring, because he looks over, chewing a huge bite. “Not hungry?” He asks after swallowing, then he takes another bite.

Stiles glances at his food and shakes his head. He feels nauseous. He fell in and out of sleep uneasily since leaving with Theo last night, guilt heavy on his mind. He fucking left his pack. He hastily wrote a note last night and left it on his bed, telling them all that he’s going out of state for self reflection or healing or something like that, Theo told him what to write. They’re gonna hate him, he knows it. It’s going to hurt them, and after all the shit he’s already put them through he doesn’t want any of them to be hurt again, especially not by him.

Theo nods slightly, but seems more focused on his burger. There’s something slightly off with him, maybe his obvious lack of sleep. Stiles eyes him with faint disgust and asks, “Is that burger really that good?”

“Try eating mystery meat and bags of stale chips for six months,” Theo says, finishing off his burger and tossing the wrapper back into the greasy brown bag, “You’ll love fast food burgers too.”

Stiles feels slight guilt tighten his stomach and he looks back down. But before he can feel too bad, a familiar text alert sounds from Theo’s pocket. Theo pulls out Stiles’ phone and glances at the screen. “Who is that?” Stiles’ asks curiously, trying to peak over at the screen. He wonders if his dad tried to stop by before his early shift and saw the note. Or if maybe Lydia tried to call and when he didn’t answer she came by the apartment.

Theo tilts his head slightly, fixing Stiles with an intent look. He locks the phone and asks, “Is this going to become a problem?”

Stiles looks between his face and the phone, then back up. He swallows, remembering Theo’s threats last night. “No.” He says weakly, leaning back into his seat. The curiosity is gnawing at him, but he’s not going to achieve anything by arguing, not with Theo.

Theo hums and the phone lights up again, another text sound filling the car. Theo finally looks away from Stiles, glancing back down at the phone. He makes a small, curious noise in the back of his throat and asks, “Who’s Steven?”

Stiles is confused for a moment and then remembers the night of he and Scott’s party. “No one.” He says, averting his eyes.

“Really?” Theo asks, reading something on the phone, “Because he seems really interested in talking to you. ‘ _Hey, Stiles,_ ” he reads, “ _I really liked hanging out with you the other night, I’d love to get together some time’._ ” Stiles sighs. Theo tilts his head again and asks with a slight laugh, though he really doesn’t seem amused, “Have you been dating?”

“No.” Stiles says. He sighs, then adds, “Not- not like that,” Stiles admits as Theo stares at him intently, “he’s Scott’s friend, he tried to set us up. Nothing happened.” Stiles huffs out a frustrated breath. Why the hell does he have to explain himself to Theo?

Theo stares at him for a moment more, then turns back to the phone. He stuffs it into his pocket silently and starts the car. Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Are you actually mad about this?” He asks incredulously. 

Theo turns to him and asks emotionlessly, “Did you like him?”

Stiles stares for a moment. “No.” He says. He doesn’t say how completely uninterested and disgusted by the prospect of dating anyone else besides Theo. He hardly likes to admit it to himself. It makes him feel like he’s broken, like his head is so fucked up from all of this that the only person who can make him feel something like love is the one who kept him locked in his apartment for a month, who forced him into a relationship after he was already hurt and terrified.

He doesn’t say it, but Theo seems to just know. He leans across the seat and his lips meet Stiles’. It’s intense again, like last night, like making up for the time they lost. Stiles lets him and closes his eyes. When Theo pulls away, Stiles lets out a deep breath, opening his eyes to look into Theo. “Good.” Theo says simply before pulling completely away. He puts the car into drive and they leave the McDonalds parking lot, hitting the road again. Stiles stares fowards, at the way the is sun hitting the street. 

 

It’s almost six pm when Theo announces they’ve gotten far enough for now and they should stop at a motel to get some sleep. Stiles isn’t surprised, Theo’s been driving over twelve hours and his eyes were starting to droop. They pull into a dingy little motel off of the highway and Theo buys a room for the night under some fake name. The room’s small and filthy, with a dresser against the wall and a queen-sized bed in the middle. Theo drops his bag onto the mattress and there’s a loud sqeaking noise.

Theo runs a hand through his overgrown, curled hair and yawns. He turns to Stiles and looks him over as he drops his bag on the floor next to the bed. “You okay?” He asks, pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants from his bag. “You’re being quiet.”

“I’m _great_ ,” Stiles replies bitterly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “All my friends and my dad are gonna hate me because they think I left them.”

He sighs and puts his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. It’s been nearly an entire day, and he doesn’t know if any of them have realized yet. They’re gonna fucking hate him. They’re gonna think he didn’t appreciate how much they all tried to help him, and be there for him after everything. It didn’t always help, and they didn’t really understand, but they’re his _pack_ , and he loves them anyways. He doesn’t want to hurt them, but this is like the ultimate betrayal. He can’t decide if it’s better or worse that they think Theo is dead.

Theo makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat, and walks over so he’s standing right in front of where he’s sitting on the bed. He takes Stiles’ chin and tilts his head up. “I know it seems bad now,” he says in a gentle voice, “But you’ll get it eventually. They don’t care about you the way I do.” He gazes at Stiles’ face, “They don’t love you like I do.”

He leans down then, and their lips meet. It’s passionate, almost like he’s continuing their kiss from earlier. Stiles lets him again, but doesn’t really reciprocate. Though he can feel his cheeks heating up. Theo pulls away after a minute with a small, loving smile. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he says deeply. He grabs his clothes and walks to the door on the left wall. He gives Stiles one final smirk before closing the door and says, “Why don’t you get comfortable?”

The door shuts with an audible thud. Stiles takes a breath. When he hears the shower running, he grabs his bag from the floor and pulls out a pair of grey sweatpants. He pulls his pants off and carefully avoids looking at the scars on his thighs before changing. After that he lays in the cheap, uncomfortable bed, and pulls the covers up to his neck, facing away from the bathroom door.

He doubts he’ll get much sleep, but he’s kind of trying to avoid anymore kissing. It’s not that he doesn’t like kissing, he actually likes the familiarity more than he’d like to admit, but he doesn’t want it to go any further than that. He hasn’t done anything remotely sexual since that night of he and Theo’s ‘date’ all those months ago. He hasn’t even masturbated. Sex is completely unappealing to him, even with Theo. He doesn’t like feeling panicked, or scared, or reminding himself of what happened with Donovan and all those other men...

He’ll probably need to get over that fear of a dead man at some point, especially now that it seems Theo is going to want to do that stuff again at some point, but he tries to avoid thinking about it. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that, right? 

Stiles glances at the front door for a moment. It’s unlocked. But he knows Theo left him alone for a reason. One of his little trust games. Besides, Stiles isn’t sure if he’d even leave if he could. Which only adds to his growing guilt. He shouldn’t be so accepting of this ‘relationship’. He should’ve struggled last night. He shouldn’t just _let_ Theo kiss him. But he _missed_ him, missed him more than he shoud’ve.

Stiles huffs and squeezes his eyes shut. God, he’s pathetic. Nothing should be this fucking confusing. He should just know what the hell he wants. He sighs. Not that it even matters anyways. Whether he wants it or not, he’s Theo’s again. He never really stopped being his.

The shower stops with a faint squeal. Stiles can hear the bathroom door open and Theo’s footsteps along the carpet. He shuffles around for a moment, then the room turns dark with the sound of a light switch. The mattress dips and he can feel Theo’s presence next to him. He doesn’t wrap an arm around his middle, but he lays close enough that Stiles can feel his breath on the back of his neck. 

“I love you.” Theo says tiredly, letting out a soft breath that sends a shiver through Stiles’ body. Stiles doesn’t answer, and Theo doesn’t make him, but they both know Stiles loves him back. 

 

Theo’s eyes open slightly, still heavy with sleep. He turns in an attempt to get more comfortable in the motel room bed, and catches sight of Stiles when he does. He’s sitting up with his pulled knees against his chest, facing the wall, body illuminated by the moonlight creeping in through the window.

“Hey,” Theo says groggily, sitting up. Stiles glances back at him. His eyes have heavy, dark circles around them and are a little bloodshot. His shoulders are slumped, his entire body overtaken with visible exhaustion. Theo tilts his head and asks, “Couldn’t sleep?” Stiles looks back at the wall and shakes his head with a slight sigh. “Did you have a nightmare?” Theo asks carefully.

Stiles sighs again. He had nightmares nearly every night back at the apartment. Sometimes he’d wake up screaming, but other times he’d just wake up with a start, in a cold sweat, only calming down after Theo held him and whispered sweet things into his ear. “Yeah.” Stiles answers, resting his head against his knees. 

Theo rubs his hand over Stiles’ back. “Was it about Donovan again?”

Stiles tenses at the mention of the name. “It always is.” He says weakly, bitter edge to his tone, “It’s like I’m back there.. like it never ended.”

Theo hums, gentle fingers moving to the small of Stiles’ back. “He hurt you,” Theo says softly, “It’s okay to still be scared.”

“No it isn’t.” Stiles argues, turning to him. His eyes are teary when he angrily says, “It shouldn’t be this bad anymore. I should be able to get an hour of sleep without _him_ in my mind. I- I just want to-to forget it. I..” he trails off and sighs again.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Theo promises, running a hand through Stiles’ hair. Stiles stares at him with those wide eyes of his. “It’s hard now, but you’ll get through it,” Stiles looks down, so Theo lifts his chin slightly to look back at him, “I’ll help you get through it.”

Stiles seems to believe him by the way he stares at him vulnerably, but he doesn’t respond. Theo smiles and says, “C’mere,” while opening his arms. Stiles leans in and allows himself to be held, wrapping his arms around Theo in return, hands balling desperately in the back of his shirt. 

Theo pets Stiles’ head gently, holding him close. He’s glad he found Stiles all those months ago. He was just a pretty thing at first, but he’s so much more than that. He’s perfect. And he’s all Theo’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this! I love writing for this universe, but I need lots of love and inspiration to continue! Please let me know how you think it’s going so far, and where you’d like it to go in the following chapters! I’m thinking of it going pretty dark, so let me know what you guys think about that!


	3. Desolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are taking so long to get out, I’m trying to make them the best I possibly can. I appreciate your guys patience <3

Stiles wakes up slowly. He’s bundled up in a scratchy blanket on a lumpy mattress, his eyelids too heavy to open, not that he even wants to wake up and leave his small nest of warmth. When he hears shuffling he forces a single eye open. He squints against the motel’s fluorescent lights and sees Theo stuffing clothes into his bag at the end of the bed. Stiles sits up slowly, slightly disoriented. He vaguely recalls last night, sort of remembers laying in Theo’s arms for a while. He must’ve drifted off to sleep at some point.

Theo turns to him and smirks, long hair messily pushed back, “Morning.” He says, despite it still being dark outside the window. He seems well-rested now, that exhausted wrongness gone.

Stiles rubs a hand over his face, still tired and a little disoriented. “How long was I out?” He asks groggily, pushing the blanket off of him.

“About seven hours,” Theo says, pealing off his t-shirt and throwing it into his bag, revealing his bare chest, only to pull on a black sweater a moment later. Stiles groans, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He hasn’t had more than a three hour night sleep in months. Not since... well, not since being with Theo. He tries not to think about the implications of that as Theo asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

Stiles stares at the bedspread, body tensing momentarily before relaxing again. He remembers now. He’d been awake from a particular recurring nightmare that always makes his skin crawl and anxiety peak. And then, being physically and mentally exhausted, he confessed things to Theo that he hasn’t confessed to anyone before. “I’m fine.” He mutters untruthfully. His head is spinning from too much sleep after so long, and he’s really not in the mood to confront the content of his recurring nightmares right now.

Theo eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t push the issue. Stiles rubs one of his eyes and asks, “Where are we even going?” They’ve been on the road for at least 24 hours now, and he has no idea where they’re going. The destination seemed entirely unimportant with everything else going on, but it’s starting to sink in that this is actually happening and he should probably know where Theo’s taking him.

“There’s a place up in Oregon,” Theo says, picking up his bag and dropping it next to the door, “It’s still a few hours away, though, so get dressed, we have to hit the road.”

Stiles yawns, standing on shaky legs, getting a massive head rush in the process. “Why Oregon?” He asks, though he’s guessing because it’s far enough away that Scott won’t be able to track his scent. Stiles pulls off his shirt he was sleeping in and drops it back into his bag. He thinks that he should be shyer about this stuff, afterall he only wore long sleeved shirts for six months so no one could see any part of his body but his hands and face, but it’s like everything’s different with Theo. He’s not afraid with Theo. Stiles furrows his brows and puts on an old sweatshirt. No, he’s definitely too groggy to be thinking about _that_ right now.

Theo responds casually, “There’s a cabin I had Tracey buy up there that we could lay low in for a while. There’s nothing around, just a small town a few miles away where they won’t ask questions. It’ll be like _Theo Raeken_ never existed.”

Stiles frowns. Like neither of them ever existed. Suddenly it dawns on Stiles that Scott is going to come home from his trip later today and realize he’s gone. To be fair, Stiles isn’t sure if anyone’s realized he’s gone yet, but judging by the the multiple texts Theo’s sent from his phone and the lack of actual calls, they probably think he’s still in his apartment. And it’s literally making Stiles’ stomach ache hurt in guilt and anxiety.

 

“We’re here.” Theo announces as the car pulls onto a rocky dirt road. Stiles looks out the window and watches the tall pine trees go by, illuminated dully by the now risen sun, mountains tall against the skyline. He turns to the windshield and sees a wooden cabin in the distance getting closer and closer. It’s surrounded by thick forest and nothing else, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Something like dread fills Stiles’ gut.

The house is a quaint, faded, brown log cabin. It looks to be one story, with a rickety porch around the front and a stone chimney along the right side. There are tall, overgrown plants surrounding the house, that look like they haven’t been trimmed in a long time. In fact, the entire property looks like no one’s stepped foot on it in years with all the weeds and cracks in the siding. It’s hidden, the only way to it a dirt road that’s nearly impossible to see if you weren’t seeking it out. It really is the perfect place to hide.

When the car pulls to a stop, Theo looks the house over once. Stiles turns to him and shoots an unimpressed look. Theo turns and shrugs. “It doesn’t look that bad. At least now you won’t be trapped inside all day like in the apartment.”

Stiles doesn’t get a chance to tell him that it’s not the house he has a problem with, but how isolated it is because Theo opens his door and says, “C’mon, let’s look inside,” before hopping out.

Stiles follows hesitantly with a sigh. The January air is crisp, but not unbearable. Stiles looks around the propety. Thick pine trees encircle the land like barriers, blocking out most of the cloudy sky. There’s an old-looking shed a few yards away, with some rusted tools leaning against the side. The air around them is deafeningly silent, not a single sound besides feet crunching dead leaves on the ground echoing around them. It’s like he and Theo the only people in an empty world.

As they walk up to the cabin, Stiles glances at the dirt road and wonders how far he’d get if he bolted when Theo wasn’t looking. He decides against, though. Even if he somehow could get away from Theo, he knows Theo would find him again. And it’s not like Stiles even knows if he would want to leave. Stiles nervously plays with the ring snug on his finger.

Theo pulls his keychain from his pocket and finds a small silver one. He puts it into the lock and the door opens with a creak. Inside is a cozy living room with a couch, two chairs and a fireplace in the middle. There’s a big window on the opposite wall, leading to a huge expanse of a big pond outside. A few feet away is a dining area with a faded wood table and chairs to match. There’s a hall and a room with a doorway revealing a small kitchen. It’s all rustic, and the complete opposite of the slick, modern furniture Theo decorated his apartment with. It’s all very non-Theo, come to think of it.

Stiles turns to Theo with furrowed brows. Theo looks around the livingroom, then turns back to him. He lets out a small sigh. “I know,” he says lightly, “It’s different. But this is just what we have to do right now.” He looks around again, glancing at the diningroom and then the kitchen. “It’s not so bad. It’s nicer than I thought it would be.”

Suddenly, a text sound dings. Theo pulls Stiles’ phone out of his pocket and reads the screen before typing something. Stiles’ jaw tightens. “Who are you texting?” He asks, despite knowing how pointless it is. Theo tilts his head slightly, so Stiles huffs and says, “Come on. Shouldn’t I know what they’re saying? I don’t even know if they realized I’m gone yet.”

Theo hesitates before stuffing the phone in his pocket. “They don’t know yet. They think you’re sick at home. Now will you stop asking?”

Stiles sighs, but nods. He looks around again and notices a deer head decorating the wall. He stares at it with faint interest and asks, “Was this a hunting cabin?”

“Yeah.” Theo responds, walking over to the kitchen and flipping on the light. “The guy who owned it hunted deer, but died a few years ago. No one’s used it since, because no one really knows it exists.”

Stiles nods along, taking in every detail in the house. His eyes find the front door and asks sarcastically, “What, no alarm system?”

“I told you,” Theo says, walking back over slowly, “Things are going to be different this time. I trust you,” he takes Stiles’ hands and tilts his head, “I can trust you, can’t I?”

Stiles swallows. He knows that he won’t try to leave. Not when his packs safety is on the line. For some... other reasons as well that Stiles doesn’t want to think too hard about. But the way Theo says _trust_ is making Stiles hesitate to answer. He doesn’t know what game Theo is playing with him, and he doesn’t want it to bite him in the ass. Instead of answering, he asks sardonically, “You do know that you’re asking that to the person you kidnapped, right?”

Theo purses his lips. “Stiles...”

Stiles huffs and looks down. “Y-Yeah, yeah, you- you can trust me.”

Theo smirks. “Good.” He says, pulling his hands back and stepping away. Stiles watches him carefully as he makes his way into the hall, turning on that light as well. “Let’s start unpacking.”

 

Stiles stares at the pond just outside the window, with his arms crossed over his chest, nail of his thumb between his teeth, being nervously gnawed on. He’s seem a couple birds and squirrels, but besides that there’s no sign of life. They truly are alone up here.

He hears Theo step in through the front door and shut it behind him, holding the last of his boxes. He doesn’t have many, only a few and a duffle bag full pf clothes. Theo places the box on the dining table, and Stiles can hear as he walks up to him. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Theo comments, looking more at Stiles than the lake.

Stiles pulls his thumb from his mouth. “I guess.” He mutters. This place is just so secluded. Stiles hates how quiet everything is. He’s been here only an hour and he can already picture losing his mind from the lack of noise.

Theo narrows his eyes. Then two strong arms wrap around Stiles’ middle and a chin rests against his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Theo asks in his ear, “You’re being quiet again. Is the house really so bad?”

Stiles sighs. “No, _no_ ,” he says exasperatedly, “That’s not the problem. It’s just... this place is literally in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s kind of the point.” Theo responds, “I faked my own death. I can’t have anyone finding out I’m alive.”

Stiles taps his finger anxiously on his arm. “So what, then? We’re gonna become hermits? Live here for the rest of our lives, completely isolated?”

Theo rubs his face against the side of Stiles neck. “No,” he says softly, fingers playing with the fabirc of his shirt, “This is all temporary, Stiles. We’re just laying low for a little while. As soon as this all blows over we’ll go somewhere else.” He pulls his head away slightly and looks the side of Stiles’ face, “Besides, it won’t be so bad. We can keep eachother company for a while.”

Stiles makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s half way between a groan and a grumble, staring at the lake a moment more as Theo’s arms squeeze his middle and he puts his face into his neck. Stiles rips away, asking with a huff, “Why the hell are you being so affectionate lately?” He asks, turning to him. Theo’s always been fairly touchy-feely with him, but since he’s come back he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of him.

Theo stuffs his hands into his jean pockets and shrugs. “I missed touching you.” He steps closer, “Maybe I’m making up for lost time.” Stiles eyes him suspiciously, making him sigh as he steps forward again, saying, “You don’t smell like me anymore.”

All Stiles can do for a moment is stare blankly at him. “Wh-what?” He asks, surprised and a little confused.

Theo sniffs the air and frowns, something dark hiding behind his eyes, but not quite coming out. “You smell like _them_.” he says bitterly, though they both know who ‘them’ are. He takes a breath, closing the gap between them, and says breathily, “I like it when you smell like me.”

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Werewolves are so freaking weird,” he mutters to himself, looking down before looking back to Theo, “If you want me to smell like you so bad, you can just... whatever,” he says a little shyly, casting his gaze onto the floor.

Theo smirks. He puts one of his hands on Stiles’ cheek and the other his waist. “Tilt your head.” He instructs in a husky voice. Stiles swallows, but does. Theo’s eybrows raise and he lets out a small, breathy laugh, saying, “You’ll have to tilt it a little more than that.” Stiles lets his eyes fall shut as he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck to Theo. He stands still for a moment, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. He feels hot breath on his skin before Theo buries his face into the side of his neck. Stiles tenses just for a moment, but eventually relaxes into it. It’s warm and comfortable. Stiles can’t help but realize that this is the most he’s let anyone touch him in six months. He’s unconfortable being too close to anyone for more than a quick hug, but with Theo it’s like all that anxiety melts away. And for the first time, Stiles feels too good to be ashamed about it.

After a few minutes of Theo scent-marking him, he pulls away slightly, fixing Stiles with an adoring look. Stiles’ cheeks and neck are red with heat. Theo’ eyes drift down to his lips. Stiles leans in slightly, and Theo does too. Then it’s like waking up from a dream when his phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. All the shame comes rushing back and he pulls away. Stiles’ head spins to look at his phone ringing on the coffee table in front of the brown couch. 

Theo huffs, walking over to pick up the phone. Stiles follows him, sneaking a peak of the screen as Theo looks at it. It reads _Scott_ with an old picture of his bestfriend under it. Theo turns the phone off with an annoyed look. “Let me talk to him,” Stiles says desperately, taking a step towards him. Theo opens his mouth to argue, so Stiles quickly reasons, “I _always_ pick up when Scott calls. If I don’t answer he’ll know something’s wrong.” When Theo still looks unconvinced he adds with a nervous breath, “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t come after me or call me again.”

Theo looks him over a little unbelievingly. But he then does sigh and glance at the phone. “Okay,” He says, to which Stiles’s eyes widen, handing out the phone. But just as Stiles is about to grab it he pulls it away and adds, “Just don’t say something you’ll regret.”

Stiles swallows nervously, nodding at the vague threat. Theo hands the phone to him at last. A shaky breath gets caught in his throat before pressing answer and pulling the phone to his ear. “Scott.” Is all he says, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

“ _Stiles, what the hell is going on?_ ” Comes Scott’s panicked voice back. Stiles winces at the pain and confusion in his tone. Scott continues, “ _I just came home, and your jeep was gone, and then I saw the note on your bed- what’s going on? Where are you?_ ”

Stiles glances at Theo, suddenly very aware he’s in the room. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s watching Stiles carefully, sat on the edge of the chair’s arm. He’s annoyed or angry or something along those lines if Stiles had to guess, but his face is void of any discernible emotions. Stiles takes a breath, looking away and saying into the phone, “That doesn’t matter,” he says shakily, “I uh- I don’t want you to come looking for me.”

“ _Stiles, is this because of Theo?_ ” Stiles tenses, as Scott adds hastily, “ _Your dad told me what happened to him. And-and I know that’s probably really hard, but I promise you that we can help you get through it._ ”

Stiles shakes his head, saying, “Scott, you really can’t.”

“ _So you’re just... leaving?_ ” He asks in a small, hurt voice. “ _You don’t have to live on your own to get through this. I know it’s really hard, I know that you’re struggling, please just let me help you._

Stiles shakes his head again, eyes glued to the scratched hard wood floors. It’s like all Scott’s words jumble into the same thing that has no meaning anymore. He’s trying to help, but he simply does not understand. “You _can’t_ ,” Stiles says with a voice crack, trying to make him understand.

Scott takes in a sharp breath. “ _Why? Why would you leave without telling anyone, you just texted me an hour ago and said you were at home, I don’t get it._ ”

Stiles can feel his throat get tighter and his eyes burn. “Because it’s too _hard_.” He says with a surprising amount of truth. “It’s- I can’t do it anymore, Scott. Everyday it’s like everyone wants to help, but no one knows what to say. I keep getting nightmares, and panic attacks, and I’m not getting any better. I can’t do it anymore.” Stiles lets in a deep breath, sniffing and remembering suddenly that Theo is sitting ten feet away from him and that Scott isn’t supposed to know all this. “Listen, Scott, I just need to be on my own for a while. Please promise me that you won’t try to look for me.”

Scott hesitates. “... _If- if this is what you really want.. then, I’m not gonna stop you. I just think it’s a bad idea_.” He takes in another breath, and asks, “ _Can’t you at least tell me where you are? Just so I know you’re safe._ ”

“No.” Stiles says immediately, glancing back at Theo, who’s still just watching him blankly. “I just- it’s better if you don’t know. I’m safe. You just have to believe me.”

“ _Stiles_...” Scott tries weakly before sighing. “ _O-okay. But will you at least keep in touch with us? So we know that you’re doing okay?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says, looking back at Theo, who’s now giving him a very pointed. “I- I can’t, Scott. I- it’s too hard. Just-just please don’t call me, I don’t want to talk. I just need to be alone.”

“ _Oh._ ” Scott says back. Stiles bites the inside of his mouth until he draws blood. “ _O-okay. If that’s what you need for right now... then I’ll try not to call._ “

Stiles sniffs. Theo stands from the chair and takes a step towards him, so he says quickly, “I’ve gotta go, Scott. I’m sorry.”

“ _Okay. J-just please be careful. I’ll be right here when you want to call or want to come home._ ” Scott says, trying his best to sound comforting through the pain, but Stiles can tell by his voice that he’s holding back tears. And it _hurts_. Stiles pulls the phone from his ear and hangs up. He practically falls backwards onto the couch and stares down at the floor, tears welling up in his eyes. 

Theo walks over to him and pulls the phone from his weak hand, tossing it to the other side of the couch. “Hey,” he says in a soft voice, all that anger or annoyance or whatever gone. He lifts Stiles’ chin with his fingers to look at him and says, “It’s okay.” He wipes an oncoming tear with his thumb, “It’s okay, don’t be upset.”

Stiles sniffs and wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He feels like he just lost something, like his old life is just... _gone_. Theo kneels in front of him and says, “You don’t need them anymore, Stiles.” He smiles slightly and runs his warm hand over his cheek, “You have me. And I’m going to take care of you.”

It’s hard to tell if Theo’s telling him the truth. Stiles keeps focused on the wall just behind Theo, eyes still teary and face still pink with heat. This is actually happening. It all still felt like a dream up until now, but it’s real. He’s living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with Theo. Stiles sighs and puts his head in his hands. 

 

Theo runs a towel through his hair, wet body covered in black boxers and a thick pair of sweatpants as he walks from the bathroom to the bedroom. He passes a window and sees how dark it’s gotten. There are no city lights shinging, he can hardly see anything out in the Oregon woods. It’ll take some getting used to, but Theo’s always been adaptable. 

He steps into the bedroom, set with a dresser and a big, king-sized bed. Stiles is sitting in the middle of the red comforter, knees pulled to his chest, looking small. His eyes are red and the skin around them blotchy. Theo looks him over as he hands his towel on the back of the door, asking, “What’s wrong, Stiles?”

Stiles rubs a hand over his face, looking over. “Nothing.” He lies.

Theo tilts his head. “You do know,” he says, crawling onto the bed and sitting at the edge, “I can hear your heartbeat and know when you’re lying to me.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m aware of that.”

Theo crawls closer so he’s right next to him. He gazes at his face, saying a gentle, “I know you’re having a hard time with all these changes. But it’ll get better. This place isn’t so bad.”

Stiles taps his finger against his knee, ome of those little things he does when he’s anxious. “It’s not the place, it’s...”

He trails off, but Theo knows what he meant to say. “Scott.” He finishes for him, bitter edge to his voice. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Stiles talk to that pesky alpha. He just has this way of convincing Theo... it’s a problem, honestly, the amount of influence Stiles has on him.

Stiles stares at the crimson bedspread with sad eyes. “He probably hates me.”

Theo looks away, suppressing an eye roll. Stiles’ undying devotion to this alpha is aggravating, to say the least. No other alpha should make Stiles feel like this but him. Still, though, he says gently, “You don’t need him, baby.” He runs a hand over his cheek, “You don’t need any of them. Once you start seeing that, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Stiles’ eyes flicker over Theo’s face, taking in every aspect as though he’s trying to tell if he’s right or not. Theo leans in and presses their lips together. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and leans into it. His lips are soft and sweet tasting, just like they were the first time they kissed. That seems like such a long time ago, now, though. Theo buries a hand in Stiles’ hair and puts his other hand on Stiles’ neck, trailing down slowly.

While before Theo did want Stiles to smell like him, but he wasn’t lying about making up for lost time. Six months felt like an eternity away from him, and he missed the way their lips felt together. His hand slowly trails down Stiles’ hoodie covered body, that doesn’t smell enough like him, down to his cotton sweatpants. He’s also been wanting to do something more than just kissing. They never got a chance to do this before he got arrested. And while Theo’s a patient person, he’s not sure how much longer he’s willing to wait. 

Stiles shifts slightly, eyes opening then closing again when Theo raises his hand a bit to his back. They kiss for another moment, but Theo can smell Stiles’ anxiety rising and how much he starts fidgeting like he wants to pull away. He does pull away suddenly, but instead of backing away he drops to his knees in front of the bed, pushing to kneel in between Theo’s legs.

Theo stares with utter confusion as Stiles pulls down the front of his sweatpants. “What the hell are you doing?” Theo asks, voiced laced with amusement, but mostly confusion. He knows what Stiles is _trying_ to do, but the thought of him initiating something like this is so bizzare that Theo feel the need to clarify.

“Reading a book, what the hell does it look like I’m doing?” Stiles responds in a sharp voice without looking up, hands ghosting over Theo’s boxers with a shaky, uncertain hesitation. 

Theo huffs out a laugh, tilting his head. “Have you ever done this before?”

Stiles swallows, glancing up then back at his covered crotch. “Uh.. no.” He says. Theo watches him carefully as he finally pulls down the black boxers, revealing a half hard cock. Theo shifts, feeling Stiles’ hot breath against him. 

“Okay.” Theo says simply, voice husky with lust. It’s not sex, but it’s the next best thing, isn’t it? And the fact that Stiles has initiated it on his own definitely doesn’t hurt. Stiles leans forward and takes his cock in his hand, stroking it awkwardly, like he has no idea what he’s doing. Which he really doesn’t.

Theo moans deep inside his throat. Stiles must take this as motivation, because he glances up and strokes a bit more confidently. As soon as Theo’s fully hard, he drops his hand. Then he just kind of stares at it for a moment, eyes slightly wide, looking like he has no idea what to do next. Theo holds back a laugh, putting a hand in Stiles’ hair, saying a soft, “Go ahead, you’re doing good.”

Stiles nods a little, looking back at the cock in his hand. He hesistantly leans forward and puts his lips on the tip, as if to test the waters. Theo holds back a growl at the feeling, pleasure tingling through his lower body. Stiles pulls his mouth off for a moment, and then takes just a little more into his mouth, one hand wrapped around the base.

“Fuck, baby,” Theo says in a groan, having trouble keeping the grip in Stiles’ hair loose when all he wants to do is force his head down. He keeps his hips forcefully still as Stiles takes half of him into his mouth, before gagging a bit and then pulling off. He takes in a sharp breath before he continues. 

Stiles sucks cock like a novice, which is pretty endearing, really. It’s still enough to get Theo off, though. It’s been quite a while since he’s gotten off, afterall. He’s actually having a little trouble controlling himself with the feeling of a warm mouth on him. His claws are digging holes into the side of the bed, but Stiles seems a little too busy to notice. He really should be afraid of Theo. But amazingly, he isn’t scared by how powerful he is. It’s part of what makes him so perfect.

Theo moans, feeling a knot of pleasure untie inside his gut. Stiles tries to pull away, but Theo’s hand tightens in his hair and forced his head still as he cums. Stiles’ eyes widen, and he puts a hand on Theo’s thigh, but doesn’t struggle to pull away. Theo’s toes curl and he lets out a growl, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He releases Stiles’ head when he finishes. Stiles pulls away with cum dripping down his chin, coughing profusely. Theo takes in a deep breath, looking him over. “Fuck,” he says again, running his fingers through his hair, “You’re amazing.”

Stiles’ eyebrows raise and he wipes the sticky fluid off of his chin with the back of his sleeve. Theo smirks. That’ll have him smelling like him for a while. Theo pulls Stiles foward, back onto the bed and kisses him. “Here, let me-“ he tries to go for Stiles’ crotch, but Stiles pushes his hand away.

“I’m fine.” He says minimally. Theo wonders briefly why he’s suddenly so opposed to getting himself off, but pushes it into the back of his mind for the time being.

“Okay,” he says simply, wiping a little bit of spit off of Stiles’ chin with his thumb, “C’mere, then, I’m tired.”

Stiles crawls closer to him and rests in his arms. Theo switches off the lamp and holds Stiles in the dark for a few minutes. “It really is going to be okay, you know?” Theo says reassuringly into the darkness, “This place- I promise it’s only temporary. But for right now, we’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

He waits for a response for a minute before hearing a weak, “okay,” come from Stiles. Theo smirks and hugs him closer, burying his face into his neck, smellimg their intermingled scents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I really can’t stress this enough, please leave me comments if you’re enjoying this fic and want me to continue. My favorite part of writing is hearing feedback, so let me know where you’d like this to go and what you’re enjoying so far! 
> 
> Thanks! <3


	4. Toxic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

Stiles wakes up to birds singing outside his window. He squints his eyes open against the morning sun streaming in through the window and glares in confusion at the sound. It’s the _only_ sound, he notices. He turns to the other side of the bed and sees only crumpled white sheets and the comforter askew. And that’s when he smells something burning.

He stands with a vague feeling of anxiety, following the smell out of the cozy bedroom into the small kitchen, where his eyes promptly widen at the sight before him. It’s like a warzone. There are at least ten bowls littering the counter, some more full than others of a clumpy beige liquid. There’s flour all over the floor, and counter. The burning smell was coming from what Stiles can only assume was supposed to be pancakes sizzling in a pan, completely charred and blackened. And in the midst of the chaos is Theo, clothes covered in flour, hands splinkled with batter. He looks up at Stiles when he notices him and frowns.

“You weren’t supposed to be awake yet,” He says in frustration, running a hand through his messy, still uncut head of hair. He huffs and shuts off the stove before a fire has a chance to start. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles asks in suprise, narrowing his eyes at the alpha. 

Theo sighs. “I was trying to make breakfast.” He says as Stiles steps over and looks over at the splatters of doughy batter. He pokes the contents of one bowl with his finger and grimaces when the substance sticks to his finger like slime. 

“I’ve never seen you cook... _ever_ ,” Stiles comments, recalling all the takeout and fast food they ate together on Theo’s leather couch, watching movies. 

“I don’t.” Theo says with another huff, picking up a patterned dish towel and wiping his hands clean. “But there was pancake mix in the cabinet, so I thought I’d try,” he glances at the burnt ones in the pan, “It didn’t work out too well.”

Stiles shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “If you wanted pancakes so bad, I would’ve made them,” he says, grabbing the handle of the pan with a dish towel and placing it into the sink, “I’ve been making pancakes since I was ten.”

“I was trying to be romantic.” Theo says. Stiles glances at him with wide eyes before looking back at the cold water running from the faucet. He doesn’t know Theo’s ultimate goal here, or why he took Stiles into hiding with him to begin with. Does he actually love him as much as he says? Or is it all an act, all some manipulative game that he likes to play? Stiles just _doesn’t know_. He never knows with Theo, because nothing Theo does makes sense. One minute he’s threatening to kill his friends if he doesn’t comply, the next he’s trying to cook him a romantic breakfast.

“It’s the thought that counts.” Stiles mutters, scraping burnt pancakes off of the pan with a fork. 

Theo hums. He steps towards Stiles and says, “I wanted to thank you for last night.” Stiles swallows, remembering the events of last night vividly. Theo started kissing him with serious intent, so to prevent having sex, he gave Theo a blow job. Which was definitely a first for him. It must’ve been a fairly awful one, but Theo seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. Theo smirks, “Guess I’ll have to find another way to make it up to you.”

Stiles can feel anxiety creeping through him, but doesn’t get a chance to think too hard about it as Theo glances inside the fridge and says, “I need to go grocery shopping. We can’t exactly order food right now, so we’ll need something to keep from starving.”

“Can I come?” Stiles asks maybe a bit too quickly. It’s been one night, but he’s already dreading the complete loneliness of this place. He needs to see actual people, interact with something in the real world. 

Theo tilts his head, shutting the fridge with a loud thud. “Why?” He asks, walking up so he’s in front of Stiles. He brushes a loose piece of hair behind his ear, asking in a light voice, “Not planning something, are you?”

“No.” Stiles says, tensing. He hates how easily Theo can do that, can go from sweet to menacing. It’s one of those little things that Stiles picked up right away, but it still freaks him out. “What would I even be planning? You’re a werewolf. There’s not much I could do to get away.”

Theo smirks. “I don’t know.” He says, looking Stiles up and down. “You’re just a little too smart for your own good sometimes.” He finally pulls his hand away, saying, “Just making sure.” He pats Stiles’ shoulder and steps away, instructing, “I’ll clean all this stuff up, go get dressed.” Stiles swallows, walking towards the door but is stopped when Theo adds, “In my clothes.”

Stiles stares at him for a moment, before rolling his eyes and walking back into their new bedroom.

 

Stiles watches the world fly past the passenger-side window. He turns to Theo steadily driving with one hand on the steering wheel, dawned in a demin jacket with black skinny jeans, and eyes him curiously. “How do you even know where a grocery store is?” He asks, noting the complete abundace of nothing around them but pine trees and a cloudy sky. “We’re in the literal middle of nowhere.”

“I used to come up to a place near here with my family,” Theo answers simply, not looking over. Stiles’ brows furrow and he just kind of stares for a moment, suddenly realizing that he knows nothing about Theo’s family. He mentioned once a long time ago that his sister froze to death in a lake when he was younger and his parents shortly after, but besides that he doesn’t know anything.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really know _anything_ about Theo. All he really knows is that he was the alpha of a criminal organization. Theo never really talked about himself. One night when they were sitting in his car outside of a convenience store, bag of wolfsbane laced bullets in the seat behind them, Theo said that he’s never loved anyone, and that’s about all he ever shared about his past. Stiles stares intently at Theo. He’s basically a stranger. They’re so close, have this weird, unhealthy connection, but Stiles never realized how little he actually knows about Theo before.

Theo glances at him and furrows his brows. “What?” He asks, looking Stiles’ face over.

Stiles stares for a moment longer before averting his gaze. “Nothing.” He mutters.

 

The grocery store ends up being about a mile from the cabin, placed in the center of a small town. The fluorescent lights shine off the metal of the shopping cart that Theo rolls down the bread aisle, Stiles close behind him. “What do you think?” Theo says as he stops the cart to pick up two packaged loaves of bread, “Rye or wheat?”

Stiles taps his fingers on Theo’s sweater that he’s wearing, along with a pair of Theo’s jeans. “Uh- wheat.” He answers absent-mindedly, glancing around the empty aisle.

“Good choice.” Theo says, dropping one of the loaves into the cart. He starts rolling the cart again, so Stiles follows behind him. They walk in silence for a little while, Theo picking out food, occassionally asking Stiles which brand he wanted, or what kind of sandwhich meat he liked best. They reach the liquor aisle and Theo picks up a bottle of whiskey. “What’d you think? You like whiskey?”

Stiles furrows a brow. “It’s fine,” he says, eyeing the bottle, “But how are you planning on buying it? You’re only...” he completely blanks on an answer and his eyes widen. Jesus fucking Christ, he doesn’t even know how old Theo is. He always just kind of assumed he was eighteen as well, but he never asked and Theo never told him. An icy feeling curls around his gut like an infection, making him suddenly feel sick.

Theo smirks, answering for him, “19.” He places the bottle into he cart and says, “But I have a fake ID. Kind of comes with the whole ‘ _Theo Raeken being dead_ ’ thing. I can pass for 22, can’t I?”

Stiles nods vaguely, following Theo to another aisle. He tries to shake the icy feeling from him, but can’t as they stock their cart full of food. When they finally reach the checkout after half an hour, there’s a blond woman standing at the counter, about in her mid-thirties. Theo smiles charmingly at her as he unloads the cart, flashing his teeth. 

“You two new in town?” She asks curiously, smiling back with crooked teeth and thick red lipstick. 

“Just visiting.” Theo answers kindly, pulling out a wad of bills from his leather wallet.

“Oh,” the woman says, packing vegtables into a brown paper bag, “You two brothers?”

“We’re cousins.” Theo answers without skipping a beat, voice not shaking. Stiles looks at him with confused eyes, but Theo continues confidently, “We have some family up here, we wanted to come visitthen for the Winter.”

“How nice.” The womans says, taking Theo’s cash and putting it into the register. “Nice to see boys your age still care about family. That’s what’s important afterall.”

Theo nods with a smile. “You’re right about that.” He says with artificial charm nearly oozing from his voice. Stiles stares at him with wide eyes as he starts reloading the cart with their bags. It’s weird how quickly Theo can change his personality, how quickly he’s able to come up with a lie and make it sound like the truth. Stiles can’t help but wonder how many lies he’s told him. He wonders if the Theo he knows is even the real Theo, or just another one of his personas he puts on to trick people. He doesn’t stop wondering even after they start heading back to the car.

 

The rain has started to pour by the time they finish bringing their bags inside the kitchen, making the world smell earthy and the house dark besides a few dull lamps. Theo shakes the droplets of water off his coat after placing the last of the groceries onto the counter, turning to Stiles in the livingroom and asking, “You want to play game or something?” He looks at the outside from the big window, saying, “There’s not much else to do until this storm clears up.” Stiles simply shrugs, to which Theo says, “You’re being quiet, you haven’t said a word since we left the store. It’s very unlike you.”

Stiles grits his teeth. “Well, maybe I’m quieter now,” he says, with a tinge of bitterness sneaking its way into his voice, “It has been six months. Maybe I changed.”

Theo picks up on his tone and tilts his head with a slight laugh, “Okay. Now I know something’s wrong.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Tell me.”

Stiles huffs, looking away. “Well, first of all, I’ve spent the last six months trying to forget you, but the minute I start talking to you again I’m crossing state lines and living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. And I left my pack behind, and they think it’s their fault. Oh, and we’re in some kind of fucked up relationship again. So take your fucking pick what’s wrong with me.”

Stiles takes in a deep breath he didn’t realize he needed. Theo shoots him a sympathetic look, saying gently, “C’mon, Stiles. It’s not that bad-“

“You know, you keep saying that,” Stiles says, “But I think you’re full of shit.” Theo’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but Stiles continues angrily, “This isn’t normal. You wanted to kill my friends, that’s why I’m here. This is fucking _toxic_.”

“And why is it that you care so much about being normal?” Theo asks, smirk falling, anger lacing his tone, “So we’re a little... unhealthy,” he says carefully, “Why does it matter so much to you that you’re normal?”

Stiles narrows his eyes. “ _Because_!” He yells in way of an answer, “I want to be happy, eventually. And this-“ he gestures around them, “-isn’t what I want.”

“This isn’t permanent.” Theo says loudly, just on the verge of yelling, but now quite, that charming persona finally gone, “All of this, this isn’t forever. It’s just for right now.”

“And then what?!” Stiles yells, anger burning hot inside of him, melting that icy sickness away, “Another place, with just us, being this ‘couple’. I still don’t get to see my pack, and I’m stuck with you, whether I want to be or not.” He huffs again, running his fingers through his hair, “Why the hell did you even want me, after everything? Why?!”

“Because I love you!” Theo finally yells deeply, an angry snarl filling his features.

“How do I even know that’s true?!” Stiles yells back, rage building with all the things he never thought he’s admit to Theo, “How do I know that anything you’ve ever said to me is true? I hardly even know you, you know that? That’s how fucked up we are!” 

Stiles is suddenly interrupted by lips viciously crashing against his own. His eyes widen as Theo kisses him with an intense anger, hands gripping his sweatet tightly, pulling them closer together. Stiles pushes Theo off with a violent yell. He’s surprised when Theo actually stumbles back a bit, panting, lips red and shiny. “Stop doing that!” Stiles yells, wiping his mouth.

“Hey!” Theo shouts, making the kitchen table shake, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You can’t do that! You can’t just act like I’m the bad guy. I took you into my life. You made me love you, you can’t just reject me now!”

Stiles’ hands curl into tight fists at his sides. “You _forced_ me into your life!” His eyes widen and he can feel tears prickling the back of them, “I didn’t have a choice! I wanted to go home!”

“I gave you a home!” Theo shouts, eyes wideing a bit manically. Stiles has never seen him so angry before, even when he tried to leave him. “And you- you said you loved me! You can’t take that back. You’re all I fucking have! Don’t try to tell me that your pack is more important.”

“They’re my family!”

“Well I murdered my family!” Theo yells. Stiles stops, looking back at him with confused eyes. The anger almost leaves Theo’s face, quickly being replaced by a wide-eyed look that suggests he’s revealed too much.

Stiles takes a step backward. Theo _murdered_ his family. It’s not even that it’s unbelievable. Theo went to prison because a group of people murdered a few months ago linked back to him. He shot some werecoyote over bullets. He murdered his beta, Josh. He ripped Donovan apart. It makes complete sense that he also murdered his family, that he apparently never loved. But understanding the logic behind it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. Stiles was denying the fact that Theo’s a bad person up until now, but it’s hard to keep doing that when you know that truth.

Theo takes a deep breath, making that look of regret disappear. “You wanna know why I wanted you so bad?” He asks, voice calm again. Stiles narrows his eyes. “Because maybe I see a little bit of myself in you.”

“Wh-what?” Stiles asks uneasily.

Theo tilts his head, stepping closer. “I can see what’s inside of you. There’s a darkness. I have it too, Stiles-“

“I’m _nothing_ like you.” Stiles forces out as Theo walks around him slowly.

Theo huffs out a scary laugh. “You sure about that? What about when I killed Donovan?” Stiles flinches, “How did you feel when you realized he couldn’t hurt you anymore?”

“Shut _up_.”

“Come on. You’ve always felt different then the rest of your pack, haven’t you? That you needed to work extra hard just to be as fucking moral and ‘good’ as them?”

“Shut up!”

“You know that you’re not like them. You know that sometimes people need to get their hands bloody. You’re like _me_.”

Stiles doesn’t realize he’s punched Theo in the face until Theo holding his face, stumbling and his fist starts hurting. His breath catches and he steps backwards, surprised by his own actions. Theo laughs, wiping blood from his nose. “See?” He asks, smilimg wildly, “This is exactly what I mean.”

Stiles frowns, looking down at his shaking fist that he’s sure will bruise. Theo grabs his hands, letting blood drip from his nose down his chin. “It’s okay that you’re different, Stiles. Because I think you’re perfect.”

Stiles stares at their hands intertwined for a long time, knuckles throbbing and anger still in his system, making him shake as he calms down. They are fucking toxic together, aren’t they? Maybe they fucking deserve eachother. Stiles closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please leave me a comment if you are enjoying this fic. I really enjoy writing it, so I hope you’re all liking it so far. Leave me recommendations on where you’d like it to go or let me know what your favorite part is so far, I can always use some motivation. <3 I’ll try to get the next chapter out soon!


	5. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE LEAVE ME A COMMENT I NEED THEM TO SURVIVE

Theo stares ahead at the dark livingroom wall, the only light illuminating the furniture pale moonlight reflecting off the lake outside and shining in through the window, listening to the sound of crickets outside and soft breathing coming from the bedroom. He takes a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing and feels fiery liquid burn down his throat. Stiles went to bed a few hours ago, half out of tiredness, half out of sheer boredom. There’s not much to do here, and it’s driving them both a little crazy, Stiles especially.

It’s been just a few days since they arrived to the cabin, a small place he had Tracy buy under the table from a man that opperates in a similar buisness to them. It’s not as terrible as Theo imagined, but it certainly is isolated, completely different than the city full of noise and life. But Theo’s never been particularly attached to that place, he’s lived in so many different places that he’s learned to adapt.

Stiles, on the other hand, isn’t so content with their new living arrangements. Theo waited too long to escape prison, he let Stiles become to attached to his old life again, his old pack. Theo stands in the darkness, taking one last sip of whiskey before setting the glass down carefully in the sink. He drifts into the bedroom and stands in the doorway for a moment, eyes catching milky white skin and chesnut hair peaking out from under the covers. Theo remembers vividly seeing Stiles for the first time, slumped into himself, shaking, those big amber eyes full of terror. Theo was attracted then, but he never imagined his feelings would become so... _complicated_. He knows Stiles will get used to this new place. Theo can be patient until then. He’ll eventually be able to rip away the notion that there’s a life for him outside of the two of them.

Theo sighs in contentment, watching Stiles sleep for a long time before a buzzing sound chimes through the room. Theo pulls Stiles’ cellphone and out from his pocket. About this time every night, when he gets off of work, his dad texts Stiles, so Theo isn’t surprised when he reads, _Hey kiddo hope you’re not asleep yet, how is everything?_

Theo rolls his eyes, typing back a simple, _Fine._ His friends text him nearly everyday, and they’ve truly bought this ridiculous story he’s come up with. Theo wonders why the hell Stiles, someone so intelligent and clever, is so attached to these idiots. There are some things he’s realized that he’ll just never understand about Stiles. Like the fact that he doesn’t see how amazing he truly is, how he thinks he’s less than perfect. But that’s okay, because Theo can see it for him.

Stiles shifts uncomfortably in his sleep, legs tangling in the blankets and brows furrowing together. Theo crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Stiles into his lap. Stiles wakes for a moment, eyeing him with sleepy confusion before pillowing his head on Theo’s abdomen, curling a hand loosely in his t-shirt, and falling back to sleep. Theo plays with his hair absentmindedly, sitting against the headboard, and watching him take in steady breaths. Stiles can’t hide how he really feels in moments like this. He loves Theo, whether he admits it or not. Theo takes Stiles’ hand in his, playing with his fingers. He can’t help but notice the faded bruises on his knuckles.

They’ve never fought so violently before. Theo’s gotten too carried away once before, digging his claws into Stiles’ forearm, but he’s not the one who got carried away this time. He’s never seen that kind of fire in Stiles’ eyes before. It made his body tingle and his gut curl in arousal. He didn’t act on it, of course, Stiles isn’t ready for that yet. But he was having a hard time staying in control. He admitted things to Stiles that he's never admitted before, things he certainly never planned on telling Stiles. Stiles just _does_ things to him, makes him lose the mask he’s put up for so long. And part of him doesn’t even mind.

Theo leans down and kisses the purple and yellow knuckles. Stiles doesn’t stir. He feels another buzz in his pocket, and when he pulls the phone out it reads, _Ok. Love you, kid._

Theo’s jaw tightens. He texts something back of the same sentiment and then throws the phone onto the other side of the bed with more force then he intended. He draws in a long breath and lets it out steadily, toying with a lock of Stiles’ hair in an attempt to calm himself. That phone call with Scott was a one time thing. Stiles can’t know what his old friends are texting him. Eventually the texts will stop, the pack will move on when they realize Stiles isn’t coming back, and Stiles will finally forget about them and accept his life with Theo.

 

A chill runs through Stiles’ body as he walks along the narrow, spiraling dirt trail covered in a thick layer of mist. The sky is dark despite it still being early, covered with grey clouds from the rain earlier today, though they seem to be clearing up a bit. Theo is a few steps ahead of him, carrying a black backpack, walking with ease while Stiles stumbles and trips over branches every couple of minutes. Theo decided abruptly after playing two games of cards that they were going on a hike up the mountain on the property. Stiles isn’t exactly the hiking type, but he’s so goddamned bored that anything would sound entertaining. As it turns out, hiding in a cabin is about as exciting as it seems. This is the first time he’s even left the house in days. That, combined with the fact that Stiles has already run out of adderall is driving him fucking insane.

The trail gets steeper and steeper as they travel higher up the mountain, and Stiles huffs from the effort of keeping up. Theo’s a werewolf, afterall, it’s not exactly easy. “C’mon,” Theo says, turning to look at Stiles when he gets too ahead, “It’s not that much further.”

Stiles huffs out a ragged breath, muttering, “Easy for you to say. Where exactly are we going, anyways?” Theo holds out a hand before answering and when Stiles goes to grab it he trips over a tree root. He doesn’t get a chance to fall to the dirt as he caught by a pair of strong arms. With wide eyes he pulls himself up, pulling his shirt back down and looking back at Theo. There’s a smirk on his lips. 

Theo remains grinning while he says, “There’s supposed to be a clearing on top of the mountain. We can watch the sunset.”

“Romantic,” Stiles says sarcastically, still panting slightly. Theo seems to take notice.

“Let’s take a little break,” he says, taking Stiles’ hand and leading him over to a rotting log sitting near some trees, damp from the rain earlier. Stiles plops down, legs sore, sweat covering his forehead despite the cool weather. Theo drops his backpack and unzips it, taking out half drank bottle of whisky and handing it to Stiles with a smirk. Stiles eyes him suspiciously, to which Theo shrugs and says, “Hikes are boring.”

Stiles gives a half shrug as theo takes a seat next to him, chugging down a sip and then setting the bottle down on the patch of grass by his feet. He glances over at Theo. His face is blank as he watches a squirrel scurry along the forest floor, hands clasped together. Stiles swallows and looks away. It’s been days since their fight, but Theo’s just been acting like everything’s normal between them. Stiles feels like he should be apologize for punching him, but everytime he thinks about doing it he always talks himself out of it. Should he really be apologizing to the person that kidnapped him for acting out? Though sometimes it doesn’t at all feel like that’s their situation. Theo didn’t even seem angry when he did, he seemed pleased, which probably isn’t a good thing. He says they’re the same, and Stiles is terrified of that being true.

Theo sniffs the air and looks over at him, eyes curious. “Why are you so anxious?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. 

“I’m always anxious, if you haven’t noticed,” Stiles answers, “it’s one of the hallmarks of my personality.”

Theo huffs out a slight laugh, looking away. “I’ve noticed,” he says in that phony, overly kind voice he uses a lot, but it seems pointless to pretend now that Stiles has seen a glimpse at his true self, “But you’re more anxious than usual. What’s wrong?”

“Will you stop that?” Stiles snaps suddenly out of frustration. He picks up the bottle and takes another swig. It burns like acid in his mouth, but he continues, “You don’t have to do- _that_ ,” he gestures to Theo with his hand, “That whole ‘nice guy’ act. There’s no point. You already got me, alright, you don’t need to pretend you’re a good person anymore.”

Theo’s eyes watch him carefully, then a sinister smirk appears on his lips. “Okay.” He says simply, mask of false charm dropping. Stiles doesn’t even know if this is the real Theo or not, but at least it’s not the overly sweet one that he knows is just an act. “But you really do smell anxious.”

Stiles frowns. He rubs his cold hands together, staring at the leaves on the ground still leftover from Autumn. “I hate hiking,” he says after a moment, “I hate living in the middle of nowhere, completely losing my fucking mind in that house.”

Theo sighs. “Look,” he says, “I know this isn’t... _ideal_. But what am I supposed to do?” He shakes his head, “Everyone thinks I’m dead. I wish things could go back to the way they were, but they can’t. This is just how things are now, hiding out, staying away from people.”

Stiles’ leg shakes up and down and he huffs out a breath. It’s his fault that things ended up like this. Well, not _all_ his fault, but he’s sure if he went with Theo right away that night at the hospital that Theo would’ve never been arrested. He’s spent many sleepless nights wondering if that’s what he should’ve done, but whether or not he should’ve, that’s part of the reason why he got caught and shot. “You should hate me, you know that?” Stiles blurts, taking a long gulp of alcohol. Theo tilts his head in confusion, so Stiles elaborates, “After everything, you should’ve been plotting your revenge in jail or something. It’s not normal that you still lo- care about me,” he corrects himself, feeling a blush heating up his face, though that might be from the alcohol. He repeats, “You should hate me.”

Theo looks his face over lovingly. “But I don’t.” He says simply. “I do love you. I’ve never lied about that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mutters, still not looking up, “I know.” He doesn’t really know if Theo’s actually telling the truth, but why else would he keep Stiles around? It can’t simply be physical attraction at this point, they’ve hardly touched in the last few days, let alone had any sex. The emotional connection must do something for Theo, so yes, maybe they can call that love.

Theo smirks again. “Good.” He stands, saying, “Come on, let’s get to the top before the sun sets.” He holds out his hand for Stiles to take. Stiles stares the outreached hand for a second before hesitantly taking it and pulling himself up.

 

Stiles stares in awe at the endless mountain silhouettes against the bright, now clear sky. The sun is low, slowly disapearing behind the horizon, amber and pink rays darting out, consuming the tall pine trees in a fiery glow. The clearing is empty besides tall, unkempt grass and dying weeds. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Theo says from behind him. Stiles turns and sees Theo unpacking something from his nap sack, features highlighted by a golden hue. 

“Yeah.” Stiles answers. Theo pulls out a thick blanket from the bag, placing it onto the ground. Stiles cocks his head to the side, saying, “What’re you doing?”

Theo looks up with a smirk. He gestures to the blanket and says, “Come over here,” while taking a seat, bottle of whiskey in his hands. Stiles walks over, stepping carefully over the overgrown plants and sits next to him, pulling his knees close to his chest. Theo takes a sip out of the bottle and hands it off to Stiles. Stiles can already feel his head buzzing, but he sips it anyways.

They watch the sun hide away behind the mountains in silence. The wind whistles through the crisp winter air and brushes against Stiles’ exposed skin. He crosses his arms across his chest in an attempt to keep warm, a shiver trembling through his entire body. Theo must notice, because he scoots closer, saying, “Hey, c’mere.”

Stiles shoots him an annoyed look. “I’m fine,” he says, wrapping his arms tighter around himself, goosebumps on his arms.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Stiles, you’re shivering,” he says. Stiles clenches his jaw shut tight and keeps his gaze straight ahead. Theo narrows his eyes, turning and saying, “Fine. If you want hypothermia, be my guest.”

Another strong gust of wind blows past them, making Stiles’ shiver even more. He huffs, scooting closer to Theo. Theo smirks. Two strong arms wrap around him and Stiles reluctantly leans into the warm embrace. The act is familiar, comfortable. The fact that Theo’s arms feel safer than his dad’s or even Scott’s is troubling, but it’s hard to care. The longer he’s away from them, the more he feels the distance he had in every single one of his relationships. But for some reason he doesn’t have that distance with Theo.

“You’re so damn stubborn,” Theo says after a moment of silently staring at the sun going down, resting his head against Stiles’ shoulder, “You know you like me. There’s no point in trying to hide it.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at how cocky he is, but he thinks deeply about that statement. He _does_ like Theo, whether he wants to or not. He formed a codependent, unhealthy attachment to him, he’s learned to accept that as something he can’t really control. But denying it always felt like the right thing to do, the thing Scott and the rest of his friends would want him to do. But he’s pretty sure that he’ll never see them again, not unlesss Theo gains a sudden cahnge of heart or dies. “Do you really love me?” Stiles asks suddenly, still staring ahead. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making him so bold, but it’s also the gnawing curiosity. He needs to know whether or not this is true. He needs to hear Theo tell him that he truly loves him, that everything he says and does isn’t some manipulative game that he’s playing, that he actually means it.

“Yeah,” Theo says breathily into his neck, nose pressing against the skin behind his ear while his arms tighten around Stiles’ middle. “You question things too much, Stiles,” he says in a deep whisper, “Will you ever just trust me?”

Stiles turns his head to gaze at Theo’s face, looking over his features. Theo cocks his head to the side. “You’re thinking about something.”

Stiles’ eyes find Theo’s. “I think you’re evil,” he murmurs, casting his glance to Theo’s lips instead. He leans forward and slams their mouths together. Before Theo even has time to respond, Stiles’ tongue is delving inside his mouth. Finally, though, Theo’s hand raises into his hair, the other still firm on his hip. Stiles moves so he’s on his knees, kissing Theo intensely, air barely getting to his lungs, hands balling up into fists in the alpha’s sweatshirt.

The rest of the world goes quiet, completely forgotten. All that there is is violent lips, and hands traveling across his body. They lower down to the blanket, Theo on his back, Stiles on top of him, straddling his hips. After a moment of passionate hands exploring each other, Stiles pulls away and unzips his hoodie, throwing it off in a hurry. Theo watches him carefully. “Do you want this?” He asks, still panting slightly, lips shiny and red.

“I want it.” Stiles says simply. He knows the only reason he wants this is because of how fuzzy the alcohol is making him mind. He’s always been impulsive after a few drinks. But he can’t bring himself to stop.

Theo takes in a breath, looking over Stiles’ face with lust evident in his eyes. He flips them so he’s on top and Stiles’ back is pressed into the hard ground beneath them. He leans back down, kissing Stiles’ neck with heated passion. Stiles’ hands tug meaningfully at Theo’s sweatshirt, so Theo pulls back and throws it off and into the grass, revealing his chiseled chest. He reaches down and pulls up Stiles’ t-shirt as well, as. The air is cold on his revealed chest, but Theo’s body so close is keeping him warm.

They continue to kiss for a while, groping hands all over eachother, until Theo pulls away again. He reaches for the black bag sitting at the edge of the blanket and searches inside. Stiles sits up just as Theo pulls out a small bottle that he recognizes immediately. Theo turns back to him with a smirk, tossing the bottle aside for now and undoing Stiles’ fly.

Stiles watches with desire as Theo pulls his jeans and underwear down just enough to reveal his crotch and a sliver of his thighs. He wastes no time going down on him, taking Stiles’ hardening dick into his mouth. Stiles moans, head falling back against the blanket. He’s been scared of sex for so long, the thought alone made his body tense in anxiety, but it doesn’t seem so bad now. He really does trust Theo, despite everything. No matter how terrible a person he is, no matter who he kills, Stiles knows in his heart that he wouldn’t hurt him, not like this. Maybe he’s being too trusting, but he’ll think more about that another time, when he’s not getting a blowjob.

He bites off a whimper as he runs his fingers through Theo’s overgrown, curly hair. Theo pulls away far too soon, earning a sad groan from Stiles. He doesn’t have too much time to fret, though, because Theo pulls his pants down further, not completely off, just enough to get to his ass, and grabs the bottle of lube from where he left it. Stiles wonders momentarily _why_ exactly Theo packed lube on a hiking trip, but is too aroused to care at the moment.

Theo unzips his own fly and pulls out his cock. He squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, stroking some onto himself and smearing the rest against Stiles’ hole. Stiles tenses a bit out of reflex, but tries his best to relax. A finger penetrates him slowly as Theo stares at him, as if giving him one last chance to back out. Stiles grits his teeth and pushes into it a little. Theo smirks, quickly adding another. It feels strange after so long not having anything inside him, but it doesn’t exactly hurt. 

Theo fingers him slowly for a minute, then the fingers disapear. Stiles knows exactly what will happen next as Theo pulls his legs further up and finds a comfortable spot in between his thighs, fitting perfectly as if they were made for eachother. Theo leans in close as he lines himself up, touching their foreheads together and keeping eye contact.

Stiles takes in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut tight as Theo thrusts in. It feels too much for a second, but Theo doesn’t push in any further than the tip, letting Stiles adjust. Stiles thought that he’d never be able to do.. well, _this_ again. He thought that all the shit that happened with Donovan had completely broken him. But he doesn’t feel scared, or like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“Good?” Theo asks in a raspy voice. Stiles nods, shifting slightly and wrapping his legs around Theo’s waist. Theo takes this as a sign to thrust in further until he’s completely buried inside Stiles’ ass. He lets out a forced breath, eyes glowing red. Stiles watches his face, noticing how into this he seems and how much it looks like he can barely control himself. Still, though, he remains gentle, bottoming out and working his way back in carefully all while kissing Stiles’ neck and lips.

They continue that way for a little while, until Theo’s thrusts start getting a bit faster and more purposeful. Stiles wraps a hand around his throbbing cock, stroking in time with Theo’s thrusts. “Fuck,” he moans, toes curling with the more forcefulness of Theo’s thrusts. “Theo,” he moans out, squeezing his shoulder just because he needs something to grab onto.

The moans only seem to spur him on, as his thrusts get harder. He shifts his position, pulling away slightly, and pulling Stiles’ hips higher up. He thrusts in meaningfully a few time before intense pleasure sparks through Stiles’ body. Stiles’ mouth falls open in a breathy cry, jolting, cock leaking. Theo smirks and hits that spot again, and again until Stiles’ entire body tenses up as he’s rocked by an intense orgasm, coming all over his chest and hand.

Theo keeps fucking him while the aftershocks surge through him, but doesn’t last too much longer. His thrusts start getting sloppy and his groan is downright aggressive when his hips still and he comes deep inside of Stiles. 

After Theo pulls out he collapses next to Stiles, both of them staring up at the now dark sky, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths. Stiles truly thought that this would never happen, but here he is, almost completely naked in a field with Theo lying next to him. He thought he’d never be able to handle this after everything, but he did. Maybe it’s because of Theo being the one to do it, or the alcohol dulling his senses, or probably a combination of both, but he managed to actually have sex without freaking out. It’s bittersweet, really. It’s like he’s officially saying goodbye to his old life and morals, finally accepting his new one and Theo’s place in it. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get a chance to see his pack again, but even if he did he’d be too ashamed to face them. Fuck, maybe he belongs with Theo.

Theo sighs contentedly next to him, turning to look at him with adoring eyes. He runs a hand through Stiles hair, saying in a sultry voice, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Stiles doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to. He shivers slightly, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothes and the cold winter evening. “Fuck, you’re freezing,” Theo notices with a slight laugh, sitting up and grabbing the other end of the blanket, pulling it over both of them, wrapping them up like a burrito. Theo holds him close, face resting in the crook of his neck. “You’re all _mine_ ,” he says quietly, nibbling at the fragile skin there.

Stiles stares up at the ocean of stars over his head. They’ve never been so close before, but Stiles can smell Theo’s cologne in his nose and hear his steady heartbeat. And he’s never felt so much like he was _his_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know where this should go. I have a few ideas, but I’d like a few more, so leave me a comment! 
> 
> Also leave a comment if you like it so far!


	6. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, sorry these chapters are taking so long. It’s not from lack of interest, I promise, I’ve just been trying to make each chapter as good as possible. Enjoy!

Lydia walks slowly down the familiar apartment hall, footsteps silent on the carpet floor. She has plastic bags of groceries in her hands, crinkling noisily as she walks. She pulls a small silver key that she’d been given a long time ago out of her pocket as she walks up to the door. The door creaks open, and she calls, “Scott?!”

Just as she’s closing the door behind her, Scott appears from the hall. He’s still in his pajamas despite it being nearly two, and his hair is messy and unkempt. It’s not a completely uncommon look for Scott on his days off, but Lydia has to wonder if there’s another cause. “Hey,” he says, throwing on a slightly forced smile. He rushes over and takes the groceries from her hands, saying as starts to place them on the kitchen counter, “You didn’t have to shop for me.”

“I don’t mind.” Lydia says, “Besides, I know how much you hate doing it,” she watches carefully as he finishes placing down the bags. She shoots him a sympathetic look and asks, “How are you?”

Scott frowns. “I’m... okay,” he says, sighing, “I’m just worried about him.”

Lydia casts her eyes to the carpet. Stiles left nearly a week and a half ago, leaving nothing but some of his clothes and a letter briefly explaining why he left. Lydia read it over a few times, and it all seemed very rushed and incoherent, which is very unlike Stiles. But Scott called him as soon as he realized and Stiles explained that he was just having too hard a time dealing with the pack, so he wanted to be on his own for an undisclosed amount of time. Lydia’s texted him a few times to make sure he was doing okay, but he hasn’t said much back to her but one word responses.

Lydia’s not even surprised that he’d want to leave. He’s had a rough time after everything he went through. After Theo knocked Lydia out that night in the hospital, he tried to take Stiles back and was shot and arrested by the Sheriff in the process. Her and Stiles spent a little while in the hospital together after that, where they got to do a lot of talking. That’s when she found out what really happened over the month he was missing. It was so much worse than she had thought, but through explaining it all, Stiles was adament that Theo hadn’t been the one to hurt him. It was clear that he developed some hero syndrome after Theo ‘saved’ him, so of course he still thought he had feelings for the alpha even long after he was gone.

Over the last six months he’d been trying to get better, but they could all tell how different he was. He was quieter, more reserved. He freaked out whenever anybody touched him, at least when he wasn’t expecting it. He’d let Scott and his father give him the occasional hug, but it was easy to tell how uncomfortable he was, and that he was only doing it so they wouldn’t feel bad. He saw a therapist twice a week, but six months is not enough time to completely heal.

“I know, it’s his decision, and he’s trying to figure stuff out. It’s just... he was gone for so long, I didn’t think he’d ever leave again, I thought that we could help him through everything,” Scott says sadly. He then asks, “Do you think it was because of Theo?”

Lydia knows it was because of Theo. The news that Theo Raeken killed himself was surprising, to say the least. The night they got the news was the night Stiles left. He’d just started seeing Theo again, visiting him in prison, so he must’ve thought it was his fault. Lydia doesn’t know why Theo decided to kill himself, maybe it did have something to do with Stiles’ reappearance into his life. Lydia didn’t get to know Theo very well, but she does know that he ran a pack full of bloodthirsty criminals and forced a kid who had already been beaten and raped to live with him against his will. He was obviously not mentally stable, and that’s not Stiles’ fault. To think he blamed himself for Theo’s death enough to run away is devastating.

“I think it really upset him,” Lydia says in a purposely calm and collected voice to reassure the alpha, “And he needs a little time alone. He’ll be back once he works through it.”

“Hopefully,” Scott frowns and something like anger flashes momentarily across his face. “That _guy_ ,” he snaps, “I can’t believe that even after dying he’s still messing with Stiles head,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Why did Stiles even start seeing him again? He _knows_ how badly he hurt him.”

Lydia sighs as well. Scott’s heard Stiles tell him over and over when they first found him six months ago that Theo was not terrible to him, that he wasn’t as bad as Scott thought, but Scott’s never accepted that as the truth. It’s hard to look at that situation and feel anything but hate for Theo, but Lydia’s talked to Stiles enough to know that he had feelings for him, and bashing him just wouldn’t help, so Lydia’s always tried to be as understanding as possible. “Stiles felt like he loved him,” she says carefully, knowing how much that fact upsets Scott, “But maybe since he’s really gone, he’ll finally get over him.”

Lydia can tell she’s lying even without supernatural hearing. There’s just something very... _off_ , with this whole thing. She didn’t feel Theo’s death, which is strange. She still doesn’t feel anything, no change at all really. She’s chalked that up to her not being fully in control of her banshee powers, but she still has her... suspicions. She’s refuses to give that too much thought, though. Theo’s dead. They cremated his body, there’s no way for him to come back. Not every person can magically come back to life, although it sometimes seems that way in Beacon Hills.

“Yeah,” Scott says. He sighs once again, and says, “Thanks for coming over, Lydia, I really appreciate you looking out for me,” he steps over and pulls her into a strong hug. Lydia rubs his back soothingly, and pulls away with a forced smile. “Will you text Stiles for me?” He adds, “I think I’m annoying him with all my texts, but I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Lydia nods, keeping up her phony smile as she walks to the door and out of the apartment. She pulls out her phone as she begins her walk back to the car, pink nails clicking audibly on the screen as she types a message to Stiles reading, _How is everything?_

She’s not really sure what else to ask. She has no idea where he is, he could be anywhere, it’s been almost two weeks. Just as she enters her car, her phone vibrates. She looks down at the lit up screen and sees that Stiles texted her back, _Fine_.

Lydia quickly texts back, _Are you busy, do you want to talk on the phone?_

 _Can’t right now, but we’ll talk soon_ , He texts back after a moment of waiting. Lydia frowns. There’s something very off about the way Stiles texts now. She scrolls through their previous conversations, like she has after every text Stiles has sent her in the past week and compares them. The differences are slight, but noticeable. Ever since Lydia found out Stiles left she’s just felt _off_. She hasn’t brought it up to Scott, because she doesn’t want him to panic, but with each passing day she’s growing more and more suspicious. 

She shuts off her phone and drops it into her leather purse, staring blankly at her windshield for a moment. Maybe she’s overthinking this. Or maybe something’s actually wrong. And she has a creeping suspicion that it has more to do with Theo then they think.

 

Theo wakes slowly as the late morning sun starts creeping through the window. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at the ceiling for a moment. A sweet scent floods his nose and he turns his head to look at a sleeping Stiles next to him, face only half visible, the other half shoved into a pillow, body covered by a thick blanket. Despite taking a shower last night, a slight smell of sex remains on his body. Theo smirks to himself.

After months of patience and careful manipulation, he’s finally managed to make Stiles give in. It was Stiles who initiated things as well, which is just the cherry on top. No, it’s not like their relationship is perfect now, they still have a lot of work to do, but it’s definetly a step in the right direction. Not to mention, Stiles’ body is amazing and Theo finally got to pound into him until all he could do was moan.

The sound of a phone ringing echos through the bedroom. Theo looks back to his bedside table and sees his phone vibrating. He picks up the small disposal cell phone he purchased before leaving California and stands, stepping out of the room. Stiles might be asleep now, but Theo doesn’t put it past him to wake up and listen in to the conversation, he’s too nosy for his own good.

Theo puts the small phone to his ear as he closes the door, already knowing who’s on the other line, saying a firm, “What?”

Tracy’s voice on the other line answers, “I destroyed all the evidence like you told me to,” she adds, “And I killed that coroner I bribed. There’s no one else that knows you’re alive.”

“Good.” Theo says, absesntmindedly picking at his nails, “That’s good, I’m glad. What else is going on? What about the pack?” He adds quickly, “And the McCall pack? Have they gotten suspicious yet?”

“No, they still think he ran away, but I have Corey watching them closely. The rest of the pack are following my orders,” Tracy explains carefully, “But...” she trails off.

Theo narrows his eyes, gripping the phone tight in his hand. “But what?” He demands.

He can hear Tracy gulp. “Some of Donovan’s friends are getting... _suspicious_.” Theo tilts his head, but Tracy quickly continues, “One werecoyote in particular. Alex.” Theo searches his mind for a face to the name, and vaguely recalls one of the drug dealers that worked with Donovan, “He’s not happy. And he thinks you’re still alive.”

Theo growls. “Take care of it.” He says in an annoyed huff, “Do whatever you have to, just take care of it.”

“I will.” Tracy promises. “Also, I called that pack out there with you,” she adds, “They’re willing to meet with you today.”

“Good.” Theo says. They exchange a few more words, then Theo hangs up and stuffs the phone into his pocket. He rubs a hand over his face and sighs. Can anything just go his damn way? Can everybody around him not be completely incompetent for once? He glances into the bedroom and his eyes catch Stiles still lying in bed. Well, maybe not everybody. Once this whole mess is behind them, and Stiles has long forgetten about that little pack of his, they truly will do great things together. All Theo has to do is be patient.

 

The grey, misty world passes by the window as Stiles taps his fingers against the car door. His head is still aching from his hangover, but it’s mostly managable now. His lower body still feels sore as well, but it’s not the worst feeling in the world. It’s nothing compared to the tremendous amount of guilt building up in his gut like a disease. Stiles glances over at Theo in the drivers seat, one hand on the wheel, driving steadily on the abandoned road. He looks back at the windshield and bites the nail on his thumb.

He shouldn’t have had sex. Yeah, Stiles initiated it, and he enjoyed it, but that only makes it a thousand times worse. Theo’s hurt Scott, and put Lydia in the hospital. He wants Stiles’ pack, his _family_ , dead. Sleeping with him feels like the biggest betrayal to all of them, and he’s completely disgusted with himself.

“Where are we going anyways?” Stiles asks to take his mind off of his shame. Besides, he is a bit curious why after over a week of hiding out in a cabin they’re suddenly meeting someone, especially when Theo’s supposed to be dead.

“There are a group of werewolves a few miles away. Tracy got in contact with them about selling us some weapons, so we’re gonna pick them up.” Theo responds, not turning from the windshield. This morning Theo seemed very pleased with how last night transpired. Stiles has a creeping suspicion that Theo was more or less planning sex, based on the fact he brought lube on a hike. Not to mention the bottle of whiskey he just happened to bring. But it seems pointless to bring that up, Stiles already had sex with him.

“Won’t they be a little suspicious that you’re not dead?” Stiles asks, narrowing his eyes.

Theo glances over to him, answering, “They don’t have to know it’s me,” he says, “They don’t know much about the pack, they’ll think I’m a beta.” They turn onto a narrower road, surrounded still by tall pine trees. “Hey,” Theo says, cocking his head to the glove compartmemt, “I brought you something.” 

Stiles narrows his eyes suspiciously, but turns and opens the glove compartment. His eyes widen when he sees what’s inside. He pulls out a slick, black handgun and turns to Theo, asking incredulously, “A gun?”

“Yeah, it’s loaded with wolfsbane bullets,” Theo explains, “You know how to use one?”

A memory of going to the shooting range with his dad comes flashing back to him. “Yeah,” Stiles answers, despite that he’s never used one on his own, “But why are you giving it to me?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Theo says with an amused smirk, looking back over, “I just want you to feel safe.”

Stiles looks the alpha over, then turns away, looking over the gun instead. He thinks about how easy it would be to shoot Theo and end this all right now. His pack wouldn’t be in any danger, and he’d be able to go home. But he could never do that, which only makes his gut twist more with guilt. He’s too fucked up to even face the pack again. Maybe he’s always been fucked up, maybe he never really belonged with them. Maybe this is how things are meant to be. Stiles takes a breath, and stares blankly at the gun.

 

They park in an abandoned dirt lot, a run down warehouse sitting in front of a wall of trees several feet away. Theo, case full of money in his hands, is slightly ahead as they walk in, footsteps echoing through the building. In the center are standing three large guys, all with there claws out, the one on the left also holding a bulky duffle bag that Stiles assumes is full of weapons. They stop about twenty feet away from them. Stiles has the gun tucked into the back of his pants.

“You two from the Raeken pack?” The wolf in the middle, most likey the alpha, asks. He’s older, with greying hair and a thick beard. He looks over both of them a bit unimpressed.

Theo answers confidently, “Yeah, we are. Do you have the weapons?”

“Yes.” The alpha gestures to the guy standing next to him, prompting him to drop his bag on the floor with a loud thud. “But I’m curious. What exactly does the Raeken pack need with all these weapons?”

A smirk crosses Theo’s face. He shurgs casually, saying, “I’m just picking up them up.”

The alpha hums, looking Theo over. “I heard that that pack is crumbling.”

Theo’s smirk falls slightly. Something dark crosses his face for a moment, but it disapears a second later. “Crumbling?” He asks, voice hitching just enough to crack his confident persona. Stiles looks over at him and swallows nervously.

The alpha nods. “I heard the Alpha’s dead. Killed himself in prison, all because he was too weak to lead. Is that true?”

Theo’s jaw twitches. Oh, he’s getting _angry_ , Stiles can tell. The alpha across from them must too, as he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Don’t believe everthing you hear,” Theo grits out, as claws suddenly pop out on both of his hands and he growls low in his throat. Stiles eyes widen a bit, but he grabs Theo’s arm before he can step foward and quickly says to the wolves, “We have the money. Let’s trade.”

Theo turns to him with a vicious look, but Stiles ignores it, heart beating a mile a minute. The older werewolf looks Theo over wearily once more, then turns to Stiles and says, “You first.”

Stiles looks back at Theo. He’s seemed to have calmed down a bit, at least enough to look like he’s not about to kill somebody, but he still looks pissed. He clenches his jaw and tosses the case of money into the center of the warehouse. The alpha steps forward and picks it, counting the stacks of hundreds inside. He must count enough because he cocks his head to the beta next to him, who slides the duffle bag over to them. It lands at Stiles’ feet, so he picks it up as the alpha says, “Nice doing buisness with you.”

All three of them turn and walk away then, back through the exit, and disapear into the night’s mist. Stiles lets out a breath and looks back over at Theo. He stares ahead for a moment before turning to Stiles, still looking pissed. “Let’s go,” he says emotionlessly, grabbing the bag from Stiles’ hands and turning to walk out the way they came. Stiled follows wearily.

 

They walk back in silence. As soon as they reach the truck, Theo tosses the bag into into the car bed and turns to Stiles with angry eyes. “What the hell was that?” He asks, voice rough.

Stiles narrrows his eyes. “What was what?” He snaps, suddenly aggressive. “What, me saving your ass back there?” He gestures to the warehouse in the distance. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I could’ve taken them.” Theo says back, teeth gritting in rage as he takes a step towards Stiles. 

“Oh really?” Stiles asks incredulously, the anxiety and guilt in his gut quickly being replaced by anger. “Because last time you thought with your ego instead of your head, you got shot by my dad and sent to-”

Suddenly his back is slammed into the truck before he can finish. Theo’s hands are clutch his hoodie tightly, face stuck in a snarl with glowing red eyes. Stiles grits his teeth, ignoring the slight pain flaring up where his back hit the truck as he growls out, “What are you gonna do? Hit me?” His curls his fists weakly in Theo’s sweater, as he practically begs, “Hit me!”

“Why do you want to punish yourself so badly?” Theo demands fiercly, making Stiles’ face soften a bit in surprise. Theo continues, pushing him harder against the metal behind them, “Huh? Is it because we had sex?” Stiles grits his teeth and doesn’t answer, but Theo seems to already knows. “You’re with _me_ , now. You’re _mine_.”

Theo’s lips slam onto his, making Stiles’ breath catch. He kisses him aggressively, like the rougher he is, the stronger claim he has on him. Stiles kisses back, hands tightening in Theo’s shirt. He needs _this_. He needs pain, because he deserves it, he deserves to feel hurt for enjoying this, for not stopping it even though he knows it’s wrong. 

When Theo finally pulls away they’re both breathless. Theo licks his red lips, looking Stiles over. “I’m not weak.” He growls, but Stiles doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince him or himself. 

Stiles nods slightly, not responding. Theo’s jaw twitches. “You’re mine.” He looks over Stiles’ face with wide eyes, “Say it.” He whispers with a voice crack, and damn, if it didn’t sound like a desperate little plea. All the masks and lies are gone now, all that’s left is this desperate, insecure kid that wants to be told he’s not a failure. It’s weird, that there’s a real person underneath all the power and faux confidence. 

“I’m yours.” Stiles says back after a moment. But he’s not just telling Theo, he’s finally admitting what he’s known for a while to himself. “I’m yours,” he repeats in a hoarse whisper, shoulders sagging and fists loosening in Theo’s sweater. He takes a deep breath, and let’s the realization sink in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I do have a plan for the next couple of chapters, plus the ending, but I would really love some more ideas!! Also, how much longer should this go on? Because I have at least 5 or so more chapters planned, but I have some wiggle room. Please let me know!
> 
> Also, is everyone enjoying so far? I didn’t know I could actually make a good sequel, but this one is coming along quite to my liking. Please let me know your favorite part so far, or what could be expanded on.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments, they truly keep me going <3


	7. Violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hey, so I had to reupload this because the ending was somehow cut off? Annoying, but sorry if you read it and were confused. Please enjoy this one*
> 
> Oh my god, sorry these are taking so long! It’s not lack of interest, promise! I’m just trying to make each chapter good and that takes time. I don’t want to rush out a chapter and then not like it and abandon this fic. Thank you so much for your patience, please enjoy.
> 
> Leave a comment!

The floor is cold under his bare feet as Stiles paces across the bedroom, anxiously rubbing his hands together. It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Theo rose from the dead, appeared in his room to take him away from his pack, under the threat of killing them all, and took him to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, completely void of any modern technology, or anything to keep his busy mind distracted. It feels like it’s been months, though. Stiles might just be losing his mind a little bit. Okay, a _lot_ bit. He can’t help it, there’s absolutely nothing to do here, which means there’s nothing to do but _think_ , which never ends well.

Stiles huffs and walks into the hallway instead, in search of something to occupy his brain for just a few minutes. He hears noise coming from the living room and as he walks in, he sees Theo on the wooden floor, shirtless and sweaty, doing pushups. Stiles crosses his arms and leans against the doorway.

When Theo notices him he stops and looks up, smirk on his face. “Hey,” he says charmingly, sitting up and grabbing the water bottle next to him, giving Stiles a full view of his glistening (seriously, _glistening_ , how the hell is that ever possible?) abs. Stiles swallows, carefully moving his eyes up to Theo’s face. 

“Hey,” Stiles says back. He’s been more or less avoiding Theo since the other night. When they were fighting all of the fear in Stiles’ gut was replaced by anger, and it gave him an incredible, almost drug-like rush. It made him feel _good_. After the addrenaline died down and he had a chance to think it over, he was terrified. He’s always felt a sort of darkness inside of him, but he’s always tried to push it under the surface. But some of it managed to rear it’s ugly head the other night, and that’s led to some unwanted thoughts. He doesn’t want to think about how capable he is of doing terrible things, because he knows he is. His mind wanders momentarily to the gun Theo gave him, to where it’s now sitting in a kitchen drawer, fully loaded. He shakes that immdiately, instead focusing back onto Theo. Despite being the cause of most of his stress, Theo’s proved in the past to be a good physical distraction, something to quiet his mind at least for a little while. Theo places his water down and grab a towel to wipe sweat off of his face. “You shaved,” Stiles comments, noting Theo’s clean face, the stubble there gone. 

“Yeah,” Theo says, absently running a hand over his smooth chin. He smirks up at him and asks, “Like it?”

Stiles nods slightly, looking his face over. It makes him look younger, more innocent. Like he didn’t go crazy a couple nights ago and try to kill some guys in a fit of rage. Stiles saw a glimpse at the real Theo, then, and he’s not as clean-cut as he appears. Looks can really be deceiving. “Mind spotting me?” Theo’s voice takes him out of his thoughts as he drops his towel and gets in a sit-up position. Stiles kneels in front of him and holds his feet down with his hands while he begins doing crunches.

Theo does sit-ups for a while, face concentrated, muscles contracting everytime he comes up and then goes back down. Neither of them say a word. Stiles doesn’t really know what to say. They’ve both been dancing around their argument since it happened, playing this little game like everything’s normal when they both know it’s not. Stiles doesn’t want to address it, he doesn’t want to address how Theo called him out for wanting to punish himself, because it’s true. He wanted the pain, he wanted to hurt himself because of how guilty he felt for having these romantic feelings, for finally admitting to Theo, and to himself, how he really feels. He shouldn’t feel these... _things_ , but it’s too late now. He’s too far in. He knows the pack would never accept him after this. He would never even be able to face them again, thought he’ll probably never get the chance to again, not if Theo gets his way. But Stiles doesn’t even know how to _begin_ to confront all of these conflicting feelings, so he’s certainly not going to bring it up, no matter how weird things are.

Theo comes up and doesn’t go back down, looking Stiles over where he’s still holding down his feet, faces inches away from eachother. Stiles swallows and looks away, blush filling his cheeks. “What’s wrong?” Theo asks after a moment, voice steady. 

Stiles clears his throat, forcing his eyes back to Theo. “I don’t know what you mean,” he lies, shaky voice giving him away.

“Bull,” Theo says, eyes searching his face, crossing his arms and leaning them on his knees, “Come on, Stiles, you know I can tell when you lie. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it about our fight? About what I said?”

Stiles casts his eyes back to the floor and sighs. “Maybe.” He admits.

Theo lets out a breath. “Listen,” he begins, looking at Stiles softly, “I’m sorry I got mad, I really didn’t mean to. I just,” he pauses momentarily, then continues, “I wish you didn’t feel so guilty all the time. I wish you’d just accept _us_ and forget about that pack.”

Stiles bites his bottom lip. “It’s not that simple.” He says, staring intently at the floor.

“I understand that,” Theo says. He looks Stiles over again, then adds, “And I’ve tried to be... _accommodating_ of it. But you’re going to have to eventually start accepting that we’re together, and that there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “That’s highly debatable,” he says, looking back at Theo.

Theo tilts his head and reaches a hand out, brushing a piece of Stiles’ hair behind his ear. “Do you trust me?” He asks simply.

Stiles swallows, looking over every detail on Theo’s face. Trusting people has been a tricky thing since all of this shit happened, even during the months of his recovery. He hardly even trusted his dad or Scott enough to share his feelings or let his guard down around. But with Theo, everything’s _different_. He knows that Theo’s not a good person, he’s seen his violent and emotionless tendencies first hand. But he trusts Theo in a way he isn’t able to trust anybody else. He’s not scared to take his clothes off around him, or to be touched by him. He’s not afraid to share his nightmares or feelings with Theo, because he knows he’ll understand, he won’t look at him like he’s broken. Theo might know him better than anybody, but that’s a can of worm Stiles is too afraid to open. Stiles nods slightly in way of answer, casting his eyes down in shame.

A small smile creeps on Theo’s lips. He leans in closer and whispers, “Then trust me now. You’re not bad for wanting this. For wanting _me_.” Stiles’ eyes flicker from Theo’s eyes to his lips. Stiles doesn’t know who leans in first, but the next thing he knows their lips are pressed together and they’re both kissing passionately. Theo’s hand raises into his hair and he pulls lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to know it’s there. The kiss is familiar. Warm. Stiles leans in closer and allows himself to be enveloped by Theo.

Theo’s wrong. Stiles is a bad person for wanting this, for enjoying this. He shouldn’t have any romantic feelings for Theo whatsoever. But despite knowing that, he does, _god_ , he does and he doesn’t know how to stop. It’s like a fucking addiction. It’s like he’s so goddamn broken that this is the only relationship he can have, the only one he feels actually comfortable in. But he’s been broken for a long time, so what’s the difference anymore?

 

Theo runs his fingers over the soft skin on Stiles’ neck, watching the human carefully. They’re both still panting slightly, covered in a post-orgasm glow where they sit on the livingroom couch, both completely naked, feet propped up on the coffee table, blanket draped over them. Theo smirks, moving his hand from Stiles’ neck to his chesnut hair. Sex with Stiles is something that Theo can definitely get used to, especially since Stiles is slowly becoming more comfortable with it. Not completely, he’s still pretty shy when it comes to this stuff, especially without the influence of alcohol, but that’s only to be expected. All it really takes some gentle coaxing and foreplay for him to eventually come alive. Theo momentarily is glad that they’re in the middle of nowhere, because Stiles can be very loud when he gets fucked. Theo’s smirk widens.

Theo’s pleased that Stiles is becoming more comfortable with the idea of exploring the sexual aspects of their relationship, but he does have a creeping suspicion that Stiles is more looking for a distraction for that busy mind of his rather than actual intimacy. Even now his attention is somewhere else, leg shaking up and down, chewing the nail on his thumb as he stares off at the window. That’s okay, though. Theo can work with being a distraction. Besides, Theo’s feelings have become far more complicated than mere sexual attraction at this point.

Theo wasn’t lying when he told Stiles he’s never loved anything before. He never felt anything like love for his parents or his older sister, Tara. He knew he wasn’t a normal kid at an early age. It’s not that he didn’t feel emotions, it’s just that he didn’t feel any connection to people. He saw living things as tools, really, and he learned early how to use them to get what he wanted. His parents eventually realized something was wrong. He could tell even then that they pulled away from him, that they didn’t want a child with a fucked up mind. They focused more on his sister, as if rewarding her for being normal. He saw several therapists starting at age five until he was ten, but none of them helped. That’s when he met the dread doctors.

They found him, actively seeked him out. Theo still doesn’t know why. Maybe they knew how emotionless he was, and they saw the perfect opputunity to indoctrinate a want for power into him. They said they can turn him into something else. They promised that they’d make him better. Stronger. _Powerful_. They also promised that if he did what they said, he’d get a pack. The only catch was that to make him into a werewolf, they needed him to be a genetic chimera. And that required a transplant.

He hardly needed anymore convincing to kill his sister. He broke her leg and pushed her into a freezing lake. She didn’t last too much longer after that. She was Theo’s first kill, and he remembers vividly the exact moment the life left her eyes. Not only did he get his sisters heart, he also proved to the doctors that he was willing to follow their exact orders; even if it meant murder.

After his sisters funeral, his parents decided they wanted to move, something about getting a fresh start, getting away from their pain. It only made sense to kill them as well. The dread doctors were pleased. He spent the next five years being experimented on, being ripped apart and constructed back together in different ways until they got what they wanted. And when it was all done, he was a chimera, half wolf, half coyote; but the dread doctors still weren’t pleased. After years of devotion and obedience, they threw him out like he meant nothing. Which, to them, he didn’t, he was simply a means to an end goal that he simply didn’t fit. They called him a _failure_. They didn’t kill him, but they probably would’ve if he hadn’t ran. 

Theo had nothing and nowhere to go, but he had grown adaptable over the years. He hitchhiked to a nearby city, and snuck his way into a dingy bar and met some older guy that liked 15 year old boys. Theo played the part of innocent-runaway, even pretended to cry, and actually fooled the creep into bring him home. He had to sleep with him, but he managed to get a warm bed for a night. 

This method worked for a while until he met an older alpha named Sam. Theo smelled it on him right away and quickly fed him a sob story about how he was bitten by some rogue alpha that killed his parents. Sam bought it and took him into his pack. There were about half a dozen betas, all living in one apartment building. Donovan was one of them, young and incredibly stupid. Easy to manipulate. They had a small drug buisness going, which brought in enough money, but Theo saw the potential for more. 

Seducing Sam was easy. He was lonely, and Theo’s good at putting on the innocent act. Eventually Theo was in his bed everynight and subtly making buisness decisions without Sam even realizing who was really in charge. This arrangment worked for a bit, but Theo was getting sick of giving the illusion that he was some submissive plaything. He didn’t want to be looked at as _weak_. He was riding Sam’s cock when he ripped his throat out with his claws. He _felt_ the power surge through him. The rush was drug-like and left him shaking afterwards.

The betas felt the shift in power as well. They didn’t dare question Theo’s newfound authority, because they knew if he was capable of killing Sam, he was capable of killing all of them. He spent the next few years strengthening the pack and building up the buisness. It led to him living in a highrise apartment, the feared leader of a criminal empire. 

He went through a couple boyfriends, though he never really considered them as such. One after another, he grew bored of all of them. They were all the same; submissive, weak, dumb. He never kept them around too long and he certainly never felt anything towards them but sexual attraction. Stiles, though... Stiles is different. Stiles is more than just a pretty thing he can carelessly play with and then dispose of. He’s clever and strategic as hell. He’ll be a real asset in the business once they’re out of hiding. And Theo does see a bit of himself inside of Stiles. Yeah, they express themselves in very different ways, but deep down they have that same darkness. Ultimately, though, Stiles numbs the pain that’s been festering inside of him for so long. He makes it easier to breath. So he supposes they can call that love. It’s the closest he’s ever going to get to it.

Stiles feels their connection as well, despite him not admitting it. He’s seen who Theo really is, the more insecure, angry version of himself that he tries to tuck away under layers of lying and careful acting. He’s the only one who’s actually stuck around and accepted who Theo really is, even if reluctantly. Maybe part of that is because of the circumstances in which they got together, but that doesn’t change the fact that they _need_ each other now.

Theo takes a deep breath and looks Stiles’ pale, mole covered face over, hand still playing with his hair. Maybe one day he’ll tell Stiles all of this. Or maybe he’ll just lie and say his parents were horribly abusive, that he had no other choice than to kill them. Although Stiles can usually tell when he’s lying, one of those little things that sets him apart from everyone else. Theo leans over and kisses the side of his fragile neck, which must stir Stiles from his distracted stupor as he looks over with narrowed eyes, asking in a confused voice, “What’s that for?”

Theo looks him over and his lips curl intp smirk. “Nothing.” He says simply, pushing sweaty hair back from where it bad begun to stick to Stiles’ forehead. 

Stiles eyes him suspiciously. “I don’t want to know what the hell goes on inside your head,” he snarks harmlessly, leaning into Theo a bit. Theo wraps an arm around his middle with a chuckle and rests his head on his shoulder, taking in their mingled scents. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a few more minutes until the sound of a phone ringing echoes through the livingroom. Theo sighs, glancing at the disposable phone sitting on the kitchen counter. He knows that it’s Tracy again, warning him about a particular old beta of his named Alex. Apparently he firmly believes that Theo’s still alive and deserves revenge for what he did to Donovan. Tracy will eventually take care of it, but it’s frustrating to know that there’s nothing Theo can do about it in his current situation.

Stiles’ head perks up and he looks over at the phone curiously. “Who is that?” He asks, turning to Theo.

Theo chuckles. Always so nosy. “Just Tracy, probably to give me updates,” he lies, running his thumb over the side of his cheek. As much as he’d like to clue Stiles into what’s actually going on, as he’d like Stiles to be a part of the business eventually, he knows how easily stressed Stiles can become at any mention of Donovan, and Alex lived with him. He could’ve been one of the betas that raped Stiles, but Theo isn’t sure how many of them besides Donovan actually did. And even if he didn’t, being that he was there the whole time, Stiles probably saw him at some point and it wouldn’t be surprising if he remembered him. So it’s probably best to leave him out of this, he doesn’t want to make Stiles paranoid or anxious, not when they’re finally making progress.

“I hate it when you do that.” Stiles murmurs sleepily, playing the the fabric of the blanket in between his skinny fingers. He yawns and continues, “Not tell me what’s going on.”

“I know,” Theo says back, wrapping his arm a bit tighter around Stiles’ middle. This isn’t an issue he needs to be worrying Stiles about, not when he has a tendency to get so easily stressed. Besides, it’s already being taken care of, there’s nothing to worry about.

 

It’s nearly sunset, the last rays of yellow and orange about to stream in through the livingroom window where they both sit, now dressed from before, room still smelling of sex even to Stiles’ human nose. They’re sitting on the floor on opposite sides of the coffee table, deck of cards in both of their hands (‘cause what the hell else are they supposed to do in the middle of god fucking nowhere besides have sex and play cards). Then suddenly Theo’s entire body tenses and his head perks up as he looks over at the window, face contorting into a concerned expression. Stiles drops his deck of cards and looks over at him, suddenly on full alert as well. “What?” He asks almost urgently, anxiety filling his gut.

Theo stays still for a moment, seemingly listening for something. “A car.” He says after a moment, though by how afraid he suddenly looks Stiles knows there’s more than just a car that’s worrying him. Before Stiles can bring that up, Theo stands, grabbing his coat from the couch and stepping into a pair of shoes as he says, “Stay inside.”

“What, wait-“ Stiles says, jumping up and grabbing Theo’s arm in an attempt to get more information. “What’s out there?”

“Just stay inside,” Theo says, still concerned, grabbing Stiles wrist and pushing his arm away, “Just- please, stay here until I get rid of him,” he looks at Stiles with almost wide, nearly _panicked_ eyes, and Stiles gets the message, more fear filling his stomach in the process as his mind surges with possible answers as to who he’s so afraid of. Stiles nods slightly, pulling his hand away. Theo’s eyes look him over one more time, expression indiscernible, before rushing outside and shutting the door behind him.

Gut swirling in fear, Stiles watches from a small window next the door as Theo walks out, eyes cast down the dirt road like someone’s coming. In a full blown panic, the sudden thought crosses his mind that it’s Scott or his dad or someone from the pack, that they somehow found him and now Theo’s going to kill them. Before he can start really believing that, though, an unfamilar, beat up truck is pulling up the dirt path, grinding to a jarring stop a few feet from Theo. Someone jumps out of the front seat and Stiles’ entire body goes cold when he sees the guy’s familar face, instantly recognizing him.

Suddenly he’s back in that room, on that bloody mattress, every inch of his body in agonizing pain. He remembers all of the men, remembers each part of that experience as if it just happened. He remembers this particular werewolves green eyes and brown hair, remembers the way he talked, the way his cruel hands felt on his aching body. He was the first one who came in after Donovan. Stiles remembers the hope he felt when the door opened on that first day and it wasn’t Donovan. He remembers thinking that the whole ordeal was over, that it was all another nightmare that he could forget. He remembers the way the werewolf looked him over like he was a meal and started to take his clothes off, and the way something inside Stiles broke a little bit when he realized that the nightmare had only just begun. He sobbed and struggled, but he was weak from blood loss and he didn’t have a shot against any human with moderate strength, let alone a werewolf. He remembers the way it hurt and how he pleaded brokenly into the mattress to stop, stop, _stop_. 

And now he’s here, like the nightmare never really ended. All of the memories he’d tried to supress over the last six months are clawing to the surface all at once, and he can’t _breath_.

He watches from the window as the werewolf, eyes glowing golden, walks up to Theo. Theo looks him over, that panicked look suddenly replaced with faux confidence as he says, “Hi, Alex.”

Alex looks at him and growls out, “I knew you were still alive. What did you think? That no one would figure it out? That no one would make you pay for killing Donovan?”

“Donovan touched what was mine,” Theo says, “I don’t like to share. He knew what would happen.” 

Alex growls loudly. “You’re pack is _nothing_ without us. _You’re_ nothing without us. You haven’t been around, Raeken, you don’t know that everything’s crumbling. All because of _you_.”

Theo’s jaw twitches. “If you want me dead, fucking try me,” Theo says, obviously trying to keep his cool despite being angry. He looks around and tilts his head to the side, eyes glowing a bright red, as he says calmly, “Where are the rest of your friends? Or did you think you could kill me on your own?”

“No, no,” Alex says, holding up his hand and watching as claws grow into his fingernails, “I figured that would be too easy. I’d rather kill your little pet.”

Theo’s calm look suddenly fades. Stiles’ gut curls and he takes several steps back, stumbling a bit, fear completely blinding him for a second. He can make out as his hands start to shake, Alex start circling Theo, saying, “He’s here, isn’t he? I knew you wouldn’t go into hiding without your precious little bitch.”

Theo growls, eyes carefully glued onto the werewolf as he moves, looking ready to attack any minute. “If you even _think_ about touching him, I’ll rip you apart.”

Alex laughs, face contorting into a disgusting manic smile combined with a snarl, showing off his yellowed fangs. “I already have,” he says, sniffing the air, “I see you have too. How was he? He begged like a little bitch when I-“

Theo roars loudly, cutting him off, and going after him with claws and fangs. Stiles stares, shaking, all the fear quickly being replaced with white hot rage. He felt completely powerless when Alex raped him, when all of them raped him, one after another, never ceasing even when he screamed and sobbed. But he’s not powerless anymore. He turns and looks at a particular kitchen drawer. 

He walks over to it, not processing the vicious noises from outside, ears feeling like they’ve been stuffed with cotton. He opens the drawer and picks up the black handgun sitting inside of it. He cocks it with shaky hands. He can feel that darkness forcing it’s way out from inside of him like a creature trying to claw through his body, but he doesn’t care. 

He slams the front door open just as Alex tries to claw at Theo, already covered in slowly healing gashes and blood. He looks over, surprised by the noise, and Stiles pulls the trigger. The bullet hits Alex’s shoulder and a line of crimson whips through the air before falling to the ground. The werewolf howls in pain, probably able to feel the wolfsbane enter his system, but Stiles doesn’t give it any mind, focusing intently on the fact that he’s still alive. He pulls the trigger again with a yell, this time hitting between his eyes.

He continues shooting the lifeless body even after he’s dead, running purely on rage and so much pain, addrenaline and anger making him feel almost excited. He doesn’t stop until there’s blood coating his face and Theo’s arms are wrapping around him, pulling him back while saying, “It’s okay, Stiles, you can stop, you got him.”

Stiles can feel his teeth clattering in his ears, entire body trembling as he steps backwards, that rage fueled high still making his nerves go wild. He drops the gun onto the grass, staring at the body beneath him. A sea of red pool on the ground. He looks over to Theo, who looks almost pleased, an impressed little smile forming on his face. “He’s dead,” he assures him, as if Stiles couldn’t see that for himself.

Stiles looks back at the body and huffs out a shaky breath. The drug like feeling is slowly leaving his system, leaving him confused and empty. But the one thing he’s sure about is the fact that that felt _good_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the inspiring comments on the last chapter, please let me know what you thought of this one! I’m actually really enjoying writing this fic, thank you all so much for the support.
> 
> What do you predict will happen next? What do you want to happen? Let me know!
> 
> Guys, please please, PLEASE leave me a comment if you like this fic. If I don’t get any, I won’t be as motivated to continue, so please leave me a comment, long or short. :) thanks!


	8. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, please please please leave me a comment if you’re enjoying this. I didn’t get many on the last chapter and I really need some feedback :) thanks
> 
> Also, sorry you have to wait so long in between chapters :( I really love this story and I’m just trying to do it right. I’ve been a bit of a perfectionist in regards to this fic, but I’m trying to work through it. Thanks so much for understanding <3

Stiles’ hands twitch uneasily at his sides, cold air biting his skin. His eyes are glued onto the dead body sitting in the tall, unkempt grass. The body of the person he just killed. The entire world is drowned out by the incessant ringing in his ears. He can feel hot, thick blood dripping down his face. He can also feel some of the blood on his tongue and he suddenly huffs out a ragged breath, gagging on the copper taste. All of the anger clouding his vision from before has left his system, making the realization of what he’s done feel like he’s been doused with ice cold water. A few rapid breaths force their way out of his lungs before he’s falling onto his knees and throwing up all the contents of his stomach into the weeds beneath him.

“Stiles,” he can almost make out Theo saying behind him as he pants, throat burning with acid. He’d nearly forgotten Theo was even here, reminded when Theo crouches down next to him and rubs a gentle hand over his back. “It’s okay,” he assures him, “It’s okay, he’s dead.”

As if that wasn’t the exact problem. Stiles takes in a few forced deep breaths, trying desperately to calm down. But he can’t because _he just killed someone_. And he definitely doesn’t deserve Theo’s gentle hands and reassurances. Stiles pushes Theo’s hands off of him and scurries backwards, eyes finding Alex’s dead body again, completely covered in bullet holes that Stiles doesn’t quite remember making. It’s like all the addrenaline just took over and now that it’s gone he feels shaky and very sick. His breathing’s speeding up rapidly and he knows he’s seconds away from a panic attack. He rubs his face in a desperate attempt to wipe the blood off before a hand grabs to his wrist to stop him.

Stiles’ head snaps over to look at Theo, who’s still next to him on his knees, looking at him intently. “Stiles, you need to calm down,” Theo says with a surprisingly casual voice, still holding onto his wrist, “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack. Just take a breath.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at him. How the hell can he act so normal after what Stiles just did? “I-I-“ he tries to say, but the words get caught in his throat. Jesus fucking Christ, he just _murdered_ someone.

Theo seems to know what he’s getting at without having to say it because he says, “I know.” His hands move to Stiles’ face. He wipes some of the blood off his bottom lip with his thumb, looking over him with this adoring, almost proud smirk on his face, “But it’s okay.”

Stiles stares at him widely for a moment, then huffs out a less ragged breath and glances back at the body, hands still shaking where they clutch at the dirt. He feels something bubbling up in his stomach again, but it’s not anger this time. It’s guilt. Theo looks him over once more before his smirk fades and his hands move from Stiles’ face. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll take care of this.”

Stiles takes another deep breath and stands on quaking legs, eyes still locked on the corpse who’s still leaking blood, though less now. Giving the body one more glance, he retreats back into the house.

 

Stiled stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, hands clutching tightly onto the sink to hold himself upright. His shoulders are trembling and tight with stress, and his breath is still uneven. Even though he washed his face, he can still feel the phantom blood dripping down it. He huffs out a ragged breath and wipes his face with his hand, but the feeling doesn’t leave him. When he moves his hand back to it’s spot on the sink, his eyes catch his left shoulder in the mirror, still discolored a pale pink, just visible enough to not be able ignore, a permanent scar of a time he never thought he’d have to think about again.

The sound of the front door opening and closing again makes Stiles look away from his reflection. After a moment Theo appears in the bathroom doorway and steps inside. “Hey,” he says, looking Stiles over as he pulls off his bloodied shirt. His chest is covered in pink, healing claw marks. Stiles hadn’t even realized Theo was hurt. No, he’d been too focused on making sure Alex was dead before worrying about anything else. Stiles guiltily looks back at the red splattered sink. 

“What’d you do with the body?” Stiles asks, voice steadier than before, but still a little shaky.

“It’s in the shed for now,” Theo responds normally, like any of this is somehow normal, while grabbing a towel and wiping his torso of blood. After most of it is cleared away he drops the towel into the hamper, and turns back to Stiles. “But we’re going to have to get rid of it. Soon.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, but responds, “I know,” in a mutter, casting his eyes back at the sink. He forces in a breath to try to keep himself calm, there’s no way he’s going to let himself freak out again. He tries not to think about the way it felt to kill, how he basically wasn’t in control of himself enough to stop shooting, because that’s a dangerous road to go down. It’s better to focus soley on disposing of the body instead.

Theo looks him over again, face soft. He steps closer to him so Stiles can see his reflection in the mirror behind him. “We can wait until tommorrow if you want,” he rubs a comforting hand over Stiles’ lower back and continuing in a reassuring voice as if he’s not talking to a murderer, “You should probably get some rest, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Stiles pulls away from Theo’s way too gentle hand and steps from the mirror, insisting, “I’m fine.” He huffs out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, “I’m fine, let’s just do it tonight.” He knows he won’t be able to sleep with the thought of what he’s done looming over him in the form of Alex laying lifeless thirty feet away in a rusty old shed.

Theo nods, slightly concerned eyes still locked onto Stiles even as Stiles averts his gaze to the floor. There are unspoken words hanging in the air, but Theo doesn’t say them, instead just saying, “Alright. Grab a coat.”

 

The smell of the crisp winter evening fills Stiles’ nose as he digs into the earth beneath him, winds howling through the surrounding forest, making the tall pine trees shiver against the starless night sky. Stiles glances up to see Theo, who’s also digging, using one of the rusty shovels they found in the shed. Stiles doesn’t look to his right, but he knows that there’s a dead body sitting in the frosted gass, covered in nothing but flimsy black garbage bags. Stiles swallows and tosses another mound of dirt behind him.

They’ve been digging for a while now and Stiles’ limbs are starting to get sore, but he doesn’t stop. He needs to bury this fucking body so he doesn’t have to think about it anymore. His gut is still aching with guilt, but he pushes it further down for now. He doesn’t allow himself to think about the darkness hidden deep inside of him, about how it clawed its way out of him.

Theo slows down his digging slightly and Stiles can feel his eyes boring into him. Stiles swallows and continues digging, staring at the hole intently, but the gaze remains. “So,” Theo begins, piercing the night’s silence. Stiles glances up at Theo, who’s hair is slicked back, dark clothes illuminated by the lantern sitting a few feet away. “Are we gonna talk about this?” He asks, face unreadable.

Stiles huffs and stabs the ground with his shovel, looking back down while saying, “No.” Stiles knows that Theo more or less wanted this to happen, has talked about how similar they are, how Stiles is capable of this. But even though he wanted it, he didn’t make Stiles pick up a gun and start shooting. No, Stiles only has himself to blame for what he’s done. Perhaps it would be easier if he could convince himself that he had no choice in the matter, but he knows it would be a lie.

Theo looks him over while leaning against his shovel. “You shouldn’t feel so bad about it,” he says calmly, “I know the first time is hard, but he deserved it. You realize that, don’t you?”

Stiles shakes his head, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Doesn’t matter if he deserved it,” he says, low voice bitter with anger, “I _killed_ him.”

Theo stares at him a moment longer before scoffing and shaking his head. Stiles looks back at him with narrowed eyes. “You need to quit it with the whole morality act. That piece of shit deserved to die and you killed him. It was justified”

“No it wasn’t” Stiles snaps, letting his shovel fall to the dirt near his feet, “I- I should’ve done something else. I- I should’ve found another way-“

“What, is that what Scott told you?” Theo says, taking a step toward him, abandoning his shovel as well. Stiles glares back at him as he continues, “Get real. Sometimes there’s no other way. He was trying to kill me, and he would’ve tried to kill you too. There was nothing else for you to do.”

“What if that’s not why I did it?” Stiles asks, voice getting louder in anger, though he’s not sure who it’s directed at. He wasn’t afraid Alex would kill him, he just wanted him _dead_. How the fuck is that justifiable? 

Theo tilts his head suddenly, expression changing. “... it felt good didn’t it?” He asks. Stiles tenses, but Theo just continues, “It felt good to hurt him like he hurt you. To kill him for what he did”

“It shouldn’t have.” Stiles says, voice weak. He shakes his head, remembering how good it felt to shoot that monster until he was dead, to make sure he’d never be able to hurt him again. “I- I don’t want to _like_ this, Theo,” He says as another gust of wind blows past them, “I don’t want to be _this_.”

Theo smirks and takes another step forward. “But you are, Stiles. You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? You’ve always felt like you didn’t belong. That pack didn’t understand you, but I do,” he looks Stiles’ face over with an impassioned expression, “You didn’t belong with them. But with me?” His eyes move down to Stiles’ lips momentarily, then back up to his eyes, “We can do amazing things together, Stiles. Just let them go, and accept _us_.”

Stiles is silent for a moment, a bit taken a back by Theo’s passion. Wind whistles through the trees, causing the trees to shake again as they stand staring at eachother. Stiles takes in a breath and huffs it back out, plopping down on a stump a foot away. Theo tilts his head, watching him carefully as Stiles rubs his tired eyes with his hands. “There’s no going back to them. Not if you’re with me.”

“I can always kill you.” Stiles says bitterly, looking back up.

Theo lets out a laugh. “That’s funny,” he says. He steps over and crouches down in front of Stiles, staring into his eyes as he says darkly, “You _need_ me.”

Stiles sighs and rests his head back in his hands. He knows that he’d never be able to kill Theo. He does need him, like it or not. He’s addicted to him like a drug and he can’t seem to pull himself away. He feels like he’d being pulled deeper and deeper into a dark, roaring ocean, and he can’t see the surface anymore. But maybe instead of fighting it he should just let himself sink. He looks back at Theo and licks his lips. Theo’s blue eyes analyze his face before he reaches a hand up to caress Stiles’ cheek. “You know I love you,” he whispers.

“I know.” Stiles says back, because at this point it wouldn’t make sense for that to be a lie. Their love is a twisted disease, but rooted deep inside both of them. 

The corner of Theo’s lips curl into a small smile as he pulls his hand away. “He’s one of the one’s that raped you, isn’t he?”

A shiver runs up Stiles’ spine as memories flash quickly through his mind. “Yeah.” He answers, biting back pain.

Theo nods, but Stiles figures he already guessed. “Do you remember all of it?” Theo asks.

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. Of course he remembers. He remembers every second of that nightmare, remembers all of the men individually, their faces burned permanently into his brain. They make reappearances everynight in his dreams, and he when he’s caught off guard he can still feel their hands forcing their way onto his body. “He came in twice. He didn’t say anything... he just...” Stiles clenches his jaw and his hands curl into fists, “He treated me like I was _nothing_.”

Theo doesn’t avert his gaze as he says, “You know,” Stiles looks back up, “They’re still out there. Probably doing what they did to you to someone else.” Stiles’ brows furrow in confusion, so Theo leans in closer and says, “We could kill all of them, Stiles.”

Stiles stares back without answering, thinking the offer over. Theo must sense his hesitation, because he offers a small smirk and says, “It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything right now. Just think about it.” He stands and starts to walk back over to the hole in the dirt. “Come on, let’s finish this.”

Stiles sits still for a moment, watching Theo pick his shovel back up and commence his digging. He thinks the offer over again in his head, thinks about how appealing it is. He knows it’s wrong; knows it’s something Scott and the rest of the pack would never approve. But the longer he’s away, the less connection he feels. Maybe he’s being selfish. He could kill Theo and get back to his old life if he tried. But part of him knows they’d never fully accept him after this. They’d look at him like he became the monster Theo wanted him to be... the monster that he’s always kind of felt inside of him, festering with anger and darkness. Maybe Theo’s the only one who’ll accept someone like him... and maybe he doesn't want his old life back anymore. Maybe everyone’s just better off if he stays with Theo. 

Stiles runs his fingers through his hair and stands, walking back over to his shovel, and helps dig the grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone enjoying so far? Where would you like this to go next? Most importantly, how should this end? I have a ending set, but I’m still iffy on how I’m gonna get there. Let me know what you guys think should happen in the next few chapters!
> 
> Guys, I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing next chapter, so please let me know what YOU want to happen next!!!
> 
> PLEASE leave me a comment!!!


	9. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry these chapters are taking so long :( also sorry this chapter isn’t very long
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Remember to PLEASE leave me a comment (I really need them, guys, I’m desperate for feedback)

Lydia wakes to the sound of a gunshot. She gasps as she darts up in her bed, her blanket falling to the carpet beneath her. Her fists clench in confusion as she hears another shot ring through the darkened bedroom. She covers her ears with her hands and clenches her eyes shut as they keep coming, drowning out the rest of the world. When they finally stop she hears someone say, “Stiles,” before the world goes silent again. She doesn’t realize she’s the one who whispered the name for a few moments.

Lydia takes a deep breath and slowly opens her eyes, looking around the room, but sees no one but her own reflection in the mirror by her door. She’s confused for a moment, but one thing she knows for sure is that Stiles is in trouble. Not dead, though, she assures herself. She can’t sense any fear either, but her fingers are tingling with some feeling she doesn’t quite know. She stands on shaky legs and rushes over to the dresser where her phone is sitting. She stares down at it a moment, hands raised like they’re about to grab it and call him, but she hesitates slightly.

Ever since Stiles left nearly two weeks ago Lydia has only texted him. He’s answered everytime but something felt kind of off with the way he worded things. In fact, the entire situation has felt kind of off to Lydia. She doesn’t know why but it’s hard to her to accept that Stiles would suddenly pack up and leave without any coaxing. Her mind has wandered to some dark possibilities but she hasn’t allowed herself to think to much about them until now. She swallows and picks up the phone, dialing Scott’s number instead of Stiles’.

There are three rings before a sleepy voice on the other line says, “ _Hello?_ ”

“Hey, Scott, sorry to wake you.” Lydia says, voice scratchy with sleep. She plays with the chain of her necklace anxiously, pacing her bedroom.

“ _It’s fine, what’s up? Is everything okay?_ ” Scott asks, voice more clear, sounding slightly concerned.

Lydia swallows again. “When’s the last time you talked to Stiles?” She asks, then quickly clarifies, “On the phone, not over text.”

“ _Uhh.. Only that one time when he first left_ ,” he answers, “ _He told me he didn’t really wanna talk so I was giving him some space. Why, have you talked to him?_ ”

Lydia takes in a shaky breath. “No,” she says into the phone, “I haven’t spoken to him since he left.”

“ _Lydia, what’s going on?_ ” Scott asks, definitely concerned now, “ _Did something happen?_ ”

“I woke up to the sound of gunshots,” Lydia answers shakily, “and I whispered Stiles’ name.”

“ _Oh my god. Is- is he-?_ ”

“No,” Lydia assures him quickly. She can hear Scott take in a relieved breath. “No. I would’ve felt it. And I don’t think he’s in pain or anything. I was about to call him, but then...” she trails off, not wanting to consider what she’s thinking to be a possibility. 

“ _...But what?_ ” Scott asks slowly, dread clear in his voice.

Lydia stares at the floor as she asks quietly, “Do you think there’s a chance that Theo’s still alive?”

Scott doesn’t answer for a moment. Lydia taps her foot impatiently, anxiety making her hands shake a bit. “... _N-no_ ,” Scott answers unsuredly at last, “ _No. N-no way. They cremated his body, how could he..._ ” Lydia can hear him take in a deep breath. “ _D-do you think_..?”

Lydia shakes her head, saying, “I don’t know. Ever since he left, something’s just felt _off_. I should’ve felt Theo’s death, but I didn’t. And I don’t think Stiles would’ve just left on his own. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but now with this... I think he might be with Theo.”

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Scott mutters, “ _W-we need to find him, if there’s any chance that monster is still alive and with him, we need to find him-_ “

“We should talk in person,” Lydia says, walking over to her closet and pulling out a coat, “I’m coming over to your place.”

“ _Okay. Please hurry._ ” Scott says before Lydia hangs up. She stuffs her phone into her pocket as she pulls on her shoes. She doesn’t know where the hell Stiles is or what’s going on, but she knows it’s not good. Still, though, she can’t feel any fear or any physical pain. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s feeling right now, but she knows that they have to find Stiles, especially if there’s a chance Theo’s still alive.

 

The nearly empty diner is lit only by fluorescent lights, barely touching their booth hidden away in a corner. Stiles picks halfheartedly at his fries, still feeling dirt beneath his fingernails. It feels almost weird to be in the outside world after being in their own little bubble for so long, Stiles has almost forgotten how to interact with anyone other than Theo. Though, that’s probably what Theo wants. Stiles glances at the alpha across the table who has one foot propped up next to Stiles on the booth’s cushion and has his hood up, revealing only a few locks of curly blond hair. He’s the one who suggested that they get out for a bit, get their minds off burying a body, but that’s pretty much been the only thing on Stiles’ mind since they finished. Theo swallows a bite of his burger and looks over Stiles carefully.

“You should eat something.” Theo says, glancing at his untouched food from across the table, “You need some energy back, you look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Stiles swallows, shaking his head and averting his eyes to an unlit, empty booth across the small restaurant. “I might be.” He sighs, raising his hand to run it through his hair, then resting his head in his hands. He doesn’t know how the hell he feels anymore. He felt guilty, but now he kind of feels numb. Now that the dust has cleared and the bodies in the ground, Stiles isn’t actually surprised that this happened. It makes sense, really. He’s always known what he was capable of, deep down. Goodness never came as easily to him as it had to someone like Scott. He’s always tried to be a better person, tried to push that darkness away as best he could, for Scott, for his dad, for his pack. But the longer he’s away from them, the easier it is to let Theo bring out this side of him. 

Theo shrugs, putting down his burger. “It gets easier,” he says. He wipes his mouth of grease with his napkin and continues, “And you really don’t have to feel guilty. We both know that he deserved it. There’s no shame in feeling good about getting a little revenge.”

There’s a lot Stiles can argue about that sentence, but he knows he’d be lying. He _did_ feel good when he killed Alex. Really good. Even now, he still feels a little relieved that that monster is dead, despite his stomach-churning guilt for feeling that. “Why, because you want me to be like you?” Stiles accuses instead.

Theo pauses and looks back to him, tilting his head slightly. “You _are_ like me. The minute you start understanding that is the minute you can finally start to let go.”

Stiles swallows and grinds his teeth together. “What if I don’t want to let go?”

Theo purses his lips together, looking Stiles’ face over carefully as he says, “You don’t belong with them, Stiles, with that pack. You really think they’d accept you back after _this_? They don’t understand you. Not the way I do.” Stiles’ eyes fall onto the table as Theo smirks and continues, “You need me.”

Stiles doesn’t bother arguing that, they both know that that Stiles _does_ need Theo, despite his reluctance to admit it. And Theo does understand Stiles better than anyone else, he saw Stiles at his worst, he helped him recover, he’s the only person Stiles isn’t afraid to let his guard down around. The pack tried to act like everything was back to normal, but he saw the way they looked at him. They tiptoed around him like if they said something wrong he’d break. Things could never be the same with them and he was stupid for thinking they could. Besides, Theo’s right, now that he’s a murderer he knows going back to them isn’t even an option anymore. Stiles swallows and narrows his eyes at Theo, saying, “Yeah, well, you’re the one who took me into hiding with you. You need me just as much as I need you.”

The smirk slowly falls from Theo’s face. He swallows and looks down, saying a weak, “Maybe I do.” Theo scratches the back of his head with his hand, funny look crossing his face like he didn’t want to admit that. It’s unsettling to see him so unsure, he hardly ever allows himself to appear vulnerable. It’s these small moments that reminds Stiles that he’s more than the powerful alpha he presents himself as, that it’s all just an act to hide the insecure kid he really is.

“Why?” Stiles asks, shaking his head in confusion. He’s accepted that Theo loves him in his own strange way, but he’s never understood _why_ , and the reasons Theo’s provided in the past never quite sufficed. He’s not special. Certainly not special enough to warrant such a strong connection that Theo goes to jail and still wants him back when all he does in this relationship is argue and require comfort. What exactly is Theo getting out of this?

Theo’s eyes flicker back to him. “You’ve seen the real me.” He answers after a moment, voice weak like it’s hard for him to say. He swallows thickly, continuing, “And you still want me.”

Stiles’ eyes widen a bit at that answer. Theo averts his gaze uncomfortably, looking vulnerable and for once unguarded. Maybe all Theo really wants is acceptance, someone who really wants him. Stiles can relate to that on some level; he’s always craved approval from the people closest to him, wanting them to see him as a good person, as a person who deserved to be loved. It’s strange how much he and Theo actually suit eachother, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. What’s even stranger is how Stiles is actually okay with that knowledge. He’s never been good enough for his pack, maybe he can be good enough for Theo. They sit in silence for a long time, food getting cold between them.

Stiles breaks the silence when he asks, “So what’s our plan?” Theo looks back up, narrowing his eyes and cocking his head in conclusion. Stiles’ fingers drum anxiously on the rim of his coffee mug as he elaborates, “We just buried a fucking body, that I killed. We’re in this shit together now, so I should probably be in the know on what we’re doing next.”

The corners of Theo’s lips perk up in an almost impressed little smile. He leans back against the booth and says, “We shouldn’t stay here much longer. If Alex figured out where we were then someone else might.” Stiles nods, expecting as much. Theo continues, “We should head East. Tracy will make some arrangements.” 

Stiles nods again, picking up his mug and taking a sip of the bitter black liquid. Theo eyes him while he does and adds, “This isn’t forever. We’ll find a permanent place eventually.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles answers. He taps away with his finger, thinking everything over. 

Theo continues to stare at him for a few more moments before he tilts his head and asks in a steady voice, “Have you thought about what I said earlier?”

Stiles knows what offer Theo’s talking about without him having to say it. He clenches his jaw shut and his tapping finger goes still. “Yeah.” He says, finally looking back at Theo. He thinks momentarily on what Theo said about finally letting go and how appealing it sounds before he answers, “I want to kill them all.” 

A smirk forms on Theo’s lips as he looks Stiles over with something mischievous in his eyes. “Good.” He says, sounding slightly victorious.

Stiles glances at him then back to the table, grabbing a fry and stuffing it into his mouth. Breaking through the numb feeling in his gut is dark ambition and something new; acceptance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you all enjoying so far? Do you like where this is going? Let me know what you want to happen next and how you’d like to see this end!!
> 
> We’re nearing an ending! Just a couple more chapters to go! How many chapters should I include? Should it go to 11 like the first one? Let me know!


	10. Anchors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took a while, the ending of this chapter was lost somewhere and I had to rewrite it :( Sorry if the last section seems a bit rushed, the dialogue’s mostly the same but I had to rewrite it quickly because I wanted to get this chapter out and prepare for the finale!! 
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoy please!

Lydia watches droplets of rain begin to fall onto the window of Stiles’ bedroom as she bites the nail of her thumb anxiously. It’s nearly four in the morning she notices when she glances to the digital clock sitting on his desk along with several papers that have been untouched since Stiles left. Looking at his room you’d think he’d just been here, all of his abandoned things still in it’s place, but Lydia knows Scott just hasn’t disturbed anything in hopes that Stiles would return. But that thoughts starting to sound more and more like a fantasy. Lydia finally turns to where Scott is sitting at the edge of Stiles’ unmade bed, looking through her phone, concern and worry like she hasn’t seen in six months growing on his face as he reads every text Stiles has sent Lydia in the last two weeks.

“You’re right,” Scott admits, looking from the phone up at Lydia, “These don’t really sound like him. But- But that doesn’t definitely mean they’re not him, right” He asks with mild hope in his voice, but he seems to know he’s wrong. He looks back at the phone gravely and asks, “What if we just try calling and asking him about it? He did talk to me once since he left.”

Lydia shakes her head, saying, “I just don’t believe it’s him. This all feels _wrong_. And if this is someone who took Stiles we can’t let them know we’re at all suspicious. They’ll just take Stiles somewhere we’ll never find him.” She says ‘they’ but they both know who she’s really talking about. Theo’s smart and if he thinks they’re coming after him he’ll only cut off contact and hide Stiles somewhere else to insure they can’t. If Theo is alive then they need to at least have the element of surprise if they have any chance of getting Stiles away from him. “We can’t let them know their plan to keep us in the dark isn’t working.”

Scott takes in a shaky breath and drops the phone onto the bed to put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.” He says, then looks up, “Do you really think that Theo’s still alive?”

Lydia takes a deep breath, looking into Scott’s eyes intently. “Yes.” She answers, “I don’t know how, or what happened, but I know Stiles wouldn’t have left by himself. And after what I heard...”

Scott stands and shakes his head, walking over to the other side of the room. He looks back over at her and says, “How could I have not realized? How could I just let that monster have him again?”

“It’s not your fault.” Lydia assures him, but he just shaies his head again, “There’s no way you could’ve known-“

“But I should’ve been here for him. If I was here than Theo couldn’t have gotten to him. But I just left him. I let him down _again_.” He grits his teeth and looks out the window. Lydia looks away. Scott felt really guilty after Stiles came back. Even though Stiles never blamed him for what happened Scott assumed all responsibility as he had been the one to set him up with Donovan. Lydia’s felt some of that guilt as well for pushing Stiles to go on a second date, but they couldn’t have known that all of this would result from such a small, seemingly innocent act. After a moment Scott turns his head halfway to Lydia, revealing a worried frown hidden by a shadow. “Do you think he’s hurting him?” He asks hopelessly.

Lydia doesn’t answer for a long moment. Stiles has been adament since his ordeal that Theo was never the one to hurt him, at least not physically. There are still a lot of things about Stiles’ time with Theo but it’s safe to guess that none of it was healthy. Theo was not mentally stable, Lydia knows that much for sure, so he probably only saw Stiles as a thing, as _his_. Not to mention during the short amount of time she saw them together back at the hospital Stiles was afraid of him. But even if Theo somehow didn’t hurt him before, he’s been stewing in a prison cell for six months and that’s a lot of time to come up with plans for revenge. It’s not hard to imagine a scernario where Theo kidnapped Stiles to punish him for getting him arrested. “I don’t know.” Lydia answers finally, “I don’t even know if Theo’s actually alive. But if there’s even a chance he is then we have to find him.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, turning back to look at the darkening window, “But how are we supposed to...” he trails off, narrowing his eyes and looking intensely out the window. 

Lydia furrows her brows in confusion. “What?” She asks, stepping over to him and looking out the window as well.

“There’s someone watching us.” Scott says, pointing at the car parked on the other side of the street. Lydia examines it closer and sees a kid sitting in it, looking at them. As soon as Scott points, though, the kid quickly starts the car and drives away. Lydia turns to Scott with wide eyes and he turns to look back at her.

 

Silence is the only sound that can be heard when Theo drifts into consciousness. He opens his tired eyes slowly, staring up at the white ceiling before looking around the darkened bedroom. He turns onto his side to look at the other side of the bed and sees crinkled sheets and a complete lack of Stiles. Theo sits up and rubs his eyes, tuning his ears into the rest of the cabin where he can distantly hear Stiles’ steady heartbeat. He sighs and stands from the bed, walking through the darkened house until he reaches the livingroom, illuminted by a bright fire buring in the fire place. He can see the back of Stiles’ head poke out from the other side of the couch where he sits on the floor in front of it.

“What are you doing up?” Theo asks, walking towards him. When he steps close enough he spots an empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor next to him. 

Stiles looks up at him with a dopey smile on his face. “Hey,” he says drunkenly, and Theo can smell the alcohol on his breath even from a few feet away. It’s easy to tell he’s totally plastered. 

Theo rolls his eyes and picks up the empty bottle. “You should be asleep,” he says, walking over to the kitchen and placing the bottle into the sink, “Why are you up, getting drunk?”

“ ‘m not drunk,” Stiles slurs as he attempts to get up but ends up falling backwards onto the couch. Theo lets out an amused huff as he walks back into the living room and puts out the fire. Stiles rubs his eyes and says, “I couldn’t sleep. This seemed like more fun.”

Theo shakes his head and rolls his eyes again, though he does understand why Stiles couldn’t sleep. It’s been a very eventful night, to say the least. Alex showed up and before Theo got a chance to kill him, Stiles did. There was a dark glint in his eyes while he pulled that trigger that Theo will never forget, that he always knew was there. He’s still not comfortable with killing, but that can change with Theo’s guidance. After all, Theo didn’t have to manipulate him into doing it, he already has the drive in him. 

Before Theo gets a chance to say anything else Stiles is kneeling on the couch and pulling Theo into a sloppy kiss. Theo kisses him back, reaching a hand to rest in his messy hair. Stiles doesn’t waste anytime pulling Theo back into the cushions, on top of him. His movements are sluggish and clumsy, but he kisses Theo deeply and grips his t-shirt in his hands in an earnest attempt to make out with him despite his intoxicated state. 

After a few moments of kissing Theo pulls away, making Stiles narrow his eyes in confusion. Theo only smirks and sits up, saying, “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Theo stands and holds out his hand expectantly. Stiles stares at it for a long moment before taking it and pulling himself to his feet with a groan. Stiles stumbled his way back to the bedroom after him and when they get to it Theo practically pushes him onto the bed. He rolls over on his back and watches on propped up elbows as Theo takes the blanket and drapes it across him before walking over to the other side of the bed.

“Why don’t you wanna do it?” Stiles asks drowsily as Theo lays back into the bed. Stiles turns to him and continues, “We always do shit when I’m drunk.”

Theo chuckles and a another smirk creeps across his lips. “As much as I’d like to do _that_ ,” he brushes a piece of loose hair behind Stiles’ ear, “You need rest. You've had a long night.”

“Mmm..” Stiles hums, rubbing his red tinted eyes with his hands. “How’d’you manage to stay so f’cking calm all the time?” he asks in a slur, shaking his head slightly, “I feel like shit.”

Theo looks his face over before he answers, “It gets easier after a while. You won’t always feel like shit.”

Stiles just looks at him blankly for a moment before nodding. After a second of no response he asks weakly, “D’you think ‘m weak?”

Theo shakes his head and says, “You’re drunk, Stiles,” he assures him, “Go to sleep.”

“ ‘m not that drunk.” Stiles mumbles.

“Well, you’re a pain in the ass,” Theo says with a chuckle, “It’s five in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I could use some rest.”

Stiles makes an indistinguishable noise in the back of his throat and looks off to a spot on the wall. The room is quiet for a few minutes and they just lay in the darkness, until Stiles finally murmurs, “What’s our plan?”

Theo sighs and rests his head onto his arm, answering, “Told you. We’ll head East. We’ll start packing soon as-“

“No.” Stiles interrupts, rubbing one eye with his hand, “I mean, our _plan_ , plan. Like, our future,” Stiles shifts and rests his head against the pillow. “We’re not gonna be running forever. What ‘appens then?”

Theo thinks for a moment before answering. “I want get away from california,” he explains, having planned that one out since he was imprisoned and half his buisness fell, not to mention he wants to get Stiles far, far away from his old pack’s reach, “Once we find somewhere permanent we’ll move the buisness over, get things running how they used to. Build everything over, find new betas. You can help me.” He looks at Stiles who’s watching him with a tired interest, and adds darkly, “But first we’re going back and killing everyone that raped you.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and huffs out a laugh. Theo furrows his brows, confused, as Stiles says, “Don’t pretend that you care about revenge all’ve a sudden. You just w’nt me to be a killer...” he looks Theo’s face over almost dazedly, “To be like you.”

Theo looks into his eyes and remembers how they were full of darkness earlier in the night. “Does that really matter to you anymore?” He challenges.

Stiles blinks heavily. “No.” He answers honestly. He sighs and moves closer to Theo. Theo lays his arm on Stiles’ waist and rests his hand on his lower back. ”About what you said eariler,” Stiles starts, looking back at Theo with those amber eyes, “about... I do want you. You’re...” Stiles trails off, furrowing his brows in thought, “...you make everything... feel alright.”

Theo’s face softens a bit at that without him meaning it too. He never means to admit such vulnerable things to Stiles but he just _feels_ stuff when it comes to Stiles, things he’s never felt before. Perhaps it’s love, but it goes beyond a fleeting feeling or infatuation. Stiles keeps him anchored to something bigger than himself or the lust for power or the need to be greater. Theo reaches out and strokes the soft skin of Stiles’ cheek. “You make everything feel alright too.”

Stiles flashes another dopey grin. “I love you.” He murmurs before closing his eyes.

Theo smiles and runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I love you too,” he says, pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around him. Stiles buries his head into the crook of Theo’s arm and sighs in contentment.

“Mm..” Stiles sounds exhaustedly, “ ‘m gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”

Theo chuckles and rests his nose in Stiles’ hair. “Probably.” He says. Stiles pretty much passes out after that, but Theo remains awake for a while, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He’s sure Stiles won’t remember this conversation in the morning, but a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts, right? They need eachother and they both know it. Theo looks down at Stiles sleeping form and watches him intake steady breath, then release them again. He’s so much more like Theo than he thinks he is. Well, he has plenty of time to figure it out. Theo lets out a deep breath and finally closes his eyes.

 

“There it is!” Scott calls out as he pulls the car over to the side of the road. He hops out and Lydia follows after him. They seem to have stopped in a very empty part of town, the only sign of life being rats scurring across the sidewalk. Lydia follows Scott to the car that was sitting in front of his apartment. The guy who was watching them is nowhere to be seen. Scott sniffs the air around the car and says, “Engine’s blown.” He sniffs the air again and says, “I think he went this way.”

Lydia follows him into a dark alleyway dripping with dull light from the streetlamp. Scott stops suddenly in front of a dumpster, taking a long whiff of the air. “He’s here!” He says, breaking out into a sprint out of the alley. Lydia spots the guy watching them sitting on the steps of an abandoned building, typing something into his phone. Scott is running across the street and has him slammed into a building before he has a chance to run. 

“Who are you?!” Scott yells, eyes glowing an intimidating crimson, as Lydia rushes over.The guy, who looks like more of a kid when Lydia sees him closer, flashes his eyes a scared golden in response.

“Corey, my name’s Corey!” The kid says in a panic. 

“Why were you watching us?” Lydia asks, making the kid, Corey, turn to her instead. A sudden text alert sounds out, making the kid look to the steps with wide eyes. Lydia picks up his phone sitting on the concrete, probably dropped when Scott grabbed him. She reads a text from Tracy, reading, _where are you?_. “Tracy?” Lydia whispers, remembering the name, but not remembering why. 

“Tracy’s my boss, she’s the one who told me to watch you guys!” Corey explains quickly. “I don’t know why!”

“Didn’t Stiles mention someone named Tracy?” Scott asks, turning to Lydia with a less vicious and more curious expression. Lydia nods, recalling that Tracy is one of Theo’s betas, his second. 

“You’re one of Theo’s betas?” Lydia asks. Corey nods his head quickly. “Do you know who we are?” Lydia follows up.

Corey nods again and answers,“Yeah. Y-you’re the McCall pack.”

“Is Theo still alive?” Lydia asks urgently, glancing over at Scott, “Is Stiles with him?”

Corey’s eyes only widen further, “Wh-wh- I don’t know!” 

“Hey!” Scott yells, voice deep and threatening, tightening his grip on Corey, “I know you’re lying! Tell us if Theo is alive!”

Corey takes in a shaky breath, fear filling his face. “I-I really don’t know, okay, but there have been rumors,” Scott glances back at Lydia with worried eyes, “People think he might still be alive... and they say he might’ve taken Stiles with him.”

“Where are they?” Scott demands through grown-in fangs, obviously losing patience at the realization that their suspicions were right and Theo really is still alive.

“A few people have said he’s up in Oregon, somewhere isolated,” Corey answers shakily, “But that’s all I know. Now p-please just let me go!”

Scott releases a tense breath, but does release Corey from his grip. Corey darts down the street the moment he’s free. Scott turns to Lydia, Corey’s phone still in her hand, and rubs his eyes in a weak attempt to get the red out of them as she says, “Phone or no phone, Tracy’s going to find out soon. And that means Theo’s going to find out too.”

“I know.” Scott says, pacing the sidewalk anxiously.

“Is that enough to go on? Oregon?” Lydia asks urgently, still processing all the information they were just given.

“It’ll have to be,” Scott says, “We should call the rest of the pack, Malia can help track his scent. But we have to hurry.” Lydia nods and they start rushing back to Scott’s car still parked on the side of the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last chapter will most likely be the last!! Get ready! Leave me predictions on how you think this will end.
> 
> Please Please PLEASE leave me some comments!!! That’s the whole reason I write, to hear your guy’s feedback!!


	11. Control

“We’re about an hour into Oregon,” Scott says into his phone, his other hand planted firm on the steering wheel. His eyes have thick bags under them, since they’ve been driving since last night and it is currently ten in the morning. “Yeah,” he continues, “Malia and Kira are in another car, Malia’s trying to track his scent on the other side of the county so we can cover more ground.” He pauses like the sheriff on the other line is saying something, then says, “Okay, I’ll call you if- _when_ we find him.”

Lydia notices the little slip but decides against pointing it out as Scott waits another moment before saying goodbye and hanging up. He drops his phone into the cupholder as Lydia glances down at her own phone, at the GPS map pulled up for Linn County, Oregon, where the Sheriff was able to track Stiles’ cellphone from, and sees that they’re about an hour or so away. A whole county is not as specific as they’d like, but it’s all the sheriff’s station could discern so it’ll have to do. Lydia glances back at Scott and notices how worried he looks. “Is the sheriff on his way?” Lydia asks, keeping her voice purposefully calm.

“Yeah.” Scott answers minimally, hands tapping on his wheel lit by the early suns glow bleeding in through the windshield. “He’s a few hours away, though.”

Lydia nods carefully. “We’re _going_ to find him.” Scott tries to assure her, but it sounds weak and forced, as neither of them know if that’s the case. Corey could’ve tipped Tracy off by now, and that would probably inform Theo as well. The reality is Stiles could be anywhere at this point, and this could all be for nothing. For Scott’s sake Lydia’s attempted to stay optimistic, but there’s more and more doubt clogging her mind with every passing hour they drive.

Lydia takes in a breath and looks away from Scott to the trees soaring by out the car’s window. “Hopefully,” she says, then glances back at Scott before hesitantly saying, “...But what if it’s already too late?”

Scott’s brows furrow a bit at that. “What do you mean?” He asks, confused. 

Lydia sighs, glancing at her lap as the car slows to a stop at a red light. She can feel Scott’s concerned eyes on her as she says, “Theo knows how to get to him. He thought he was in love with him...” she trails off and looks out the window, swallowing thickly, “What if- What if he got to him again?”

Scott looks back at the road as the stoplight turns green and he starts driving on the empty road again. “Then we convince him to come with us. I already let something bad happen to him, I’m not going to let it happen again.” He answers guiltily, and judging by the way he’s been driving all night without sleep and how his mind has been thinking about nothing but finding Stiles, Lydia knows that he’s determined not to let history repeat. “Besides, we don’t know that’s what’s happening. Stiles wouldn’t let himself get sucked in again.” Scott states adamantly.

“He’s not in any pain, Scott.” Lydia reminds him. It seems he’s really expecting to find Stiles in chains in a basement somewhere when they both know that’s not the case. Stiles and Theo’s relationship does not function that way from what little Lydia has seen of it and what Stiles has told her. 

“That still might not be what’s happening, though.” Scott repeats, not looking up for discussing the subject any further. It’s easy to tell that he’s hoping that this time won’t be like the last, when Stiles refused to come with them and looked afraid of Scott. Scott tried to keep a brave face, but he was devastated by that and it’s not hard to believe that he doesn’t want to have to go through that again. He’s not facing the very real possibility that that might happen again and he needs to be prepared.

Lydia only nods, not bothering to argue her point any further, Scott’s clearly not listening. She doesn’t know which situation would be worse, Stiles being forced into a relationship with Theo or him being a willing participant. She tries not to give that anymore mind, instead asking, “So when we find Stiles, what are we going to do about Theo?” The thought has been looming over them, unspoken, until now, but they should probably discuss it before they find him.

Scott tenses a bit at the question, and carefully avoids making eye contact as he turns onto another street. “Whatever we have to to keep Stiles safe.” He answers emotionlessly, eyes stuck on the windshield like glue. Lydia swallows and nods again, turning her attention to the world outside the window. As the thick forest surrounding the street soars by, Lydia can’t help but wonder if Stiles is okay and what exactly they’ll find when they get to him.

 

Hot water pours down on Stiles’ body, still sore from sleep. He groans and rubs his aching head with his hand, feeling a pounding against his temple. “You look like hell.” A voice in the doorway says. Stiles looks past the half-open shower curtain and sees Theo standing against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, grin on his face.

“I feel like hell,” Stiles mutters, running his hands over his face. He can only vaguely recall the events of last night after they got home from the diner. He was trying to fall asleep and when he couldn’t he decided that getting drunk would be a good idea; newsflash, getting drunk is hardly ever a good idea and will most definitely lead to the world’s worst hangover. Everything after that is blurry at best. He does however recall a conversation with Theo, but only bits and pieces.

Theo huffs out a laugh, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the sink as he says, “Wonder why.”

“You’re hilarious,” Stiles mutters and then groans again, shutting his eyes against the harsh bathroom lights and rubbing them with his fists in an attempt to alleviate the aching pain. When he looks up Theo is shutting off the running water and handing him a towel and the thin golden ring he left on the sink. 

Stiles slides the ring on his finger before he takes the soft cotton gratufully and runs it over his face to dry it. “You should probably start packing,” Theo says as he walks into the bedroom, “I want to be gone by morning.”

Stiles nods vaguely while wrapping the towel around his waist and following Theo into the bedroom. “Where exactly are we going?” Stiles asks as he pulls on a pair of boxers from the dresser.

“Place up North in Washington.” Theo says, and Stiles notices that he’s already begun packing some of his clothes into a big black duffle bag. 

Stiles looks over at him wearily. “Washington?” He asks while pulling on a pair of jeans, “I’m assuming we’re not going to Seattle?”

“I told you, we’ve gotta stay away from people,” Theo says, looking up, “at least for the time being.” When Stiles sighs and looks back to the dresser, Theo tilts his head and steps over. Two hands appear on Stiles’ waist as Theo leans in and says, “I know you hate being so isolated, but you’ll be fine. And you won’t be alone, you have me, right?” 

Stiles nods slightly, considering momentarily the implication of that sentence as Theo steps away. Stiles supposes all he really needs is Theo, right? It seems pointless to keep fighting the fact that he _needs_ Theo to feel okay, to feel secure. He recognizes that it’s toxic and unhealthy, but if he can’t help himself from indulging maybe it’s time to just let go like Theo has told him over and over. He feels like he’s not broken when he’s with Theo, and that’s something he really wants. He’s sick of everyone looking at him like there’s something wrong with him, or even hoping that who he is now is just a stage of recovery and that he’ll eventually go back to being the same person he was before. He’s never going to be the same and should’ve never convinced himself he could be. But Theo seems okay with that, and maybe that’s why Stiles... Before he can continue his train of thought he suddenly remembers a very significant detail about last night.

After pulling a red sweater over his chest, he slowly turns to look at Theo, who’s gone back to organizing clothes to fit in his bag. Stiles licks his bottom lip anxiously before hesitantly asking, “Did I- did I tell you something last night?”

A smirk instantly appears on Theo’s face at that. He doesn’t look up from holding clothes as he chuckles and says, “I’m surprised you remember,” without specifying what Stiles said, though they both know exactly what it was. Stiles looks back to the dresser, not really knowing what to do with this information. Theo finally looks back up and asks, “Do you take it back?”

Stiles stares at the dresser’s old, faded wood for a moment, thinking. “... No,” He admits quietly. It’s easy to miss the way Theo smiles a real, genuine smile the moment he says it before casually looking back down, but Stiles notices it briefly in the mirror’s reflection. Stiles has discovered recently that while he needs Theo, Theo needs him just as much. They’ve struck up some strange, codependent balance that’s really unhealthy, but works for them.

“I’m gonna go out and buy some stuff for the road,” Theo says, zipping the now full bag. “You should stay here and get some rest before we go, we’ll be stuck in the car for a while.”

“Fine.” Stiles agrees reluctantly, not really wanting to rest, but also not feeling up to going anywhere right now with his brain currently pounding against his skull. Theo walks over and pulls Stiles close to him before leaning in and kissing him deeply. Stiles kisses back, one hand on Theo’s shoulder, the other curled in his overgrown hair. Theo pulls away after a moment and grins, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Stiles furrows his brows and asks, “What was that for?”

Theo looks him over. “Last night.” He answers simply before pulling away. He grabs his coat from off the bed and pulls it on while saying, “I’ll be back in an hour. Get some sleep.”

Stiles watches him leave the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Stiles sighs and rubs his head again, walking over to the bed and practically falling onto it face first. He rests on top of the blankets for a while, staring off at the clouds forming outside the window. He thinks about going somewhere else, hiding in some other cabin up in Washington with Theo. He figures moving forward will be good thing, even though it feels like moving further away from home will be like moving further away from his old life. He’s been considering lately that that’s not such a bad thing. Stiles slowly drifts to sleep while thinking about this. 

 

When Stiles’ eyes flutter open the sun is peaking through the thick clouds outside and shining onto the wooden floor. Stiles pulls his hand in front of his face and squints his eyes against the light. He can still feel a pounding in his skull from his hangover, but it’s significantly less than before. After his eyes adjust to the light he glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table and sees that it’s only been forty-five minutes since Theo left. Stiles sits up and rubs a hand over his tired eyes.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, still a bit disoriented from his short sleep, Stiles stands and runs a hand though his bed hair. He glances at the open dresser drawer but ignores it in favor of wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water. As he’s pulling a glass from the cabinet he notices his cellphone sitting on the end of the counter. Stiles stares at it for a moment. Theo must’ve forgot to take it with him. Or maybe he just knows Stiles isn’t going to use it.

Stiles abandons his glass and steps over to the phone. He reaches a hand out to grab it but stops short momentarily. He takes a breath and picks it up anyways, curiosity gnawing at him. When he presses the on button he sees that the lockscreen is completely blank, no new texts or calls from any of the pack. Stiles sighs and locks the phone again, figuring that’s probably a good thing. Reading any of their texts would only make him feel guilty again, and he’s sick of feeling guilty. The pack should forget about him anyways, they’d never accept him after all of this, at least not fully.

As Stiles starts pouring tap water into the smudged glass, he hears the sound of tires on dirt. He glances out the living room window at the dirt trail and his entire body goes cold when he notices that the car pulling up is definitely not Theo’s. He stands in the living room frozen for a moment before whipping his head around and spotting the kitchen drawer holding the gun he used yesterday.

He rushes towards it and quickly takes the gun, gripping it tight in his shaking hand. His mind races with possible explanations, but for some reason the only thought that sticks in his mind is a possible repeat of what happened last night. It’s not totally unjustified, it’s completely possible that Alex told one of his friends that he found where Theo’s been hiding and they’ve come looking for him after he never came back. If Stiles was thinking clearer he would have come up with a more logical explanation, but he’s seriously sleep deprived and still a little on edge after killing Alex, so this is the thought that makes the most sense.

Stiles sneaks another look out the window, finger just above the trigger, to see that the car has stopped. Stiles lets in a shaky breath and plasters his back against the wall near the front door, listening carefully as two car doors open and slam shut. He can hear footsteps creaking on the rickety porch outside. His hands tighten on the gun as they get closer and closer. There’s the sound of someone trying to get in, fiddling with the doorknob, for a few long, tense moments before the sound of the knob being pulled off rings through. The moment the door opens Stiles points his gun towards the intruder and gets ready to pull the trigger.

 

Lydia watches Scott drop the doorknob of the cabin and burst through the door with addrenaline seemingly coursing through his vains. Once they reached Linn County, they started driving around the streets for a bit and Scott acutually managed to catch Stiles’ scent. It was a very small amount, and it wasn’t completely Stiles’, but nonetheless it lead them to an isolated dirt road surrounded by tall pine trees and eventually to a cabin hidden away in a clearing. Scott wasted no time trying to get the door open, determination in his worried face. The door opens with a loud creak and they both rush inside to be confronted with a gun in their faces.

It takes a moment to realize Stiles is holding the gun, as Scott’s eyes widen and he puts his hands up instantly. Stiles continues pointing the gun for a moment, the scared, panicked look on his face quickly changing to comfusion as he realizes it’s Scott and Lydia. “Oh my god,” he mutters, lowering the gun and letting out a relieved breath. Lydia momentarily wonders who he was expecting.

“Stiles,” Scott says, letting his hands fall back to his side. He looks over Stiles in a panic, so many unasked questions clearly surging through his head. He decides on asking, “Are you okay?! Why do you have a gun?!”

Stiles glances down at his gun for a monent, then looks back up at both of them, confusion still obvious on his face. “I’m.. fine. Wh-what are you guys doing here, how did you-?”

“Lydia heard gunshots.” Scott explains, looking over Stiles like he’s looking for any injuries, which there appears to be none of. In fact, Stiles looks fine besides the fear and shock in his face and he’s more pale than normal. Lydia quickly glances around the small cabin, where Stiles has aparently been living, and notes nothing out of the ordinary, though the increasingly more worried part of her is wondering where exactly Theo is and how soon before he gets back. Scott continues worriedly, “We know that Theo’s still alive. And we need to get you out of here before he gets back.”

Stiles takes a breath, seemingly taking in the information, a shocked still on his face. “How’d you figure it out?” He asks, looking back up. 

“I had a feeling.” Lydia finally says, taking a step forward. Stiles turns to look at her, and she continues, “Are you alright? Did he-?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Stiles brushes her worry off, face of shock quickly turning into one of deep concern. He glances at the door and then back at them, saying anxiously, “You guys have to leave, he’s gonna come back soon and you can’t...” he huffs out a flustered breath. 

Scott’s brows furrow while he takes a step towards him. “No, no, not without you.” He says quickly, “You can’t stay with him, Stiles, we’re here now, you don’t have to be afraid of him-“

“No, you don’t understand,” Stiles interrupts, eyeing the door with increasing worry, “You _have_ to leave. If you guys are here when he comes back..” he cuts himself off with a nervous breath, glancing out the window like he’s afraid someone will pull up any second.

“I’m not leaving you!” Scott yells, making Stiles’ head snap back to him in surprise. Scott looks a bit taken a back by his anger as well, and hastily continues in only a slightly more calm voice, “I- I can’t leave you with _him_. N-not again, I’m not going to let him hurt you again!”

“Fuck, Scott, he’s going to kill you guys!” Stiles yells finally, eyes widening a bit as he does. Stiles turns to Lydia, pleading to her in a panic, “Please, you have to go!”

Lydia opens her mouth to say something but the sudden sound of a car driving on the dirt road cuts her off, stopping everyone in their tracks and making them all look back torwards the window.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles mutters in a panic, listening as presumably Theo’s car pulls into the driveway. The sudden reappearance of his friends was a shock, but now combined with the looming threat of Theo slaughtering them the minute he comes into the house is making Stiles’ heart pound and hands shake uncontrollably. He turns back to Scott and Lydia who are both staring at the window, and quickly says, “You both need to leave now. _Please_.”

Scott takes a quick look at Stiles before turning back to the window. His face suddenly transforms in anger and his eyes glow a bright red as he growls out, “I’m not letting him hurt you,” and storms out the front door.

“Scott!” Stiles yells, dropping the gun still in between his fingers on the floor and running outside after him. Lydia follows behind them, eyes wide with concern. Howling winds confront them as they step out, but Stiles stays focused on Scott, walking over to Theo’s truck with his claws now drawn. Before Stiles has a chance to catch up to him, Theo is hopping out of his truck, furious look on his face and eyes shining red.

Theo wastes no time, grabbing Scott by the throat and slamming him against the side of the truck hard enough to make the metal creak. Scott grabs at his hands, desperately trying to pull them off, but Theo only tightens his grip, baring his fangs in a vicious growl. “Theo!” Stiles yells, rushing over and grabbing Theo in an attempt to pull him away. Lydia rushes over as well, pulling at Scott in an attempt to seperate them. Stiles does manage to get Theo off after a moment, leaving Scott to fall to ground, gripping his throat and coughing perfusely as Lydia crouches down next to him.

“Stop, stop!” Stiles yells, holding Theo back, or at least trying, though Theo seems determined to get back to Scott. “Theo, please!” Stiles tries, pushing hard at Theo’s chest, making Theo finally look at him instead of his pack mates. He looks angrier than Stiles has ever seen, even angrier then that night at the hospital all those months ago, and Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit afraid. “How did you know they were here?” 

“Tracy called me, said she hadn’t heard from Corey since last night,” Theo says between fangs, hands curling into fists as he glances back at Scott and Lydia. 

Stiles pushes at his shoulders again, making Theo look back to him. “They’re leaving, okay, you don’t have to do anything.”

“We’re not leaving you, Stiles,” Scott says as Lydia helps him stand. Stiles’ eyes widen, not knowing why Scott’s not getting that Theo wants him dead and is capable of doing it. Theo growls at him and attempts to step forward but Stiles holds him back. 

“Theo, _don’t_.” Stiles says, more and more worried by the minute, and realizing that this is actually happening and has very high chance of ending in... Stiles huffs out a ragged breath and curls his fists in the front of Theo’s shirt, standing between him and Scott.

“This was our deal, Stiles,” Theo spits out, looking back to Stiles as a strong gust of wind blows past them, “I let them live as long as they don’t become a problem,” he glances back at Scott and growls again, saying, “They’re a problem.”

“I don’t care what I said!” Stiles yells, not loosening his tight grip on Theo’s shirt, “I swear to god if you do _anything_ to them, I’m done being- whatever the hell we are!”

Theo growls at the threat, but before he has a chance to respond Scott is saying from where he stands near the truck, “Stiles, you don’t have to be afraid of him, we won’t let him do anything-“

“Afraid of me?!” Theo yells, any ounce of composure he once had completely gone, replaced by pure rage as he attempts to step forward but is blocked by Stiles, “He’s not afraid of me, he wants _me_.”

“You made him want you!” Scott yells back, the pain lacing his voice making Stiles’ gut curl in the familiar feeling of guilt. “You’re a monster that kept him captive and kidnapped him!”

Theo laughs darkly, nefarious look crossing his face as he asks, less aggressively and more cunningly, “Is that really what you think?” Stiles spares a look over to Scott and sees him tilt his head a little in confusion before Theo asks, “Or are you just jealous that I saved his life when you didn’t give enough of a shit about him to even realize he was gone?”

That seems to have pushed the wrong button with Scott, as his face turns angry and he rushes Theo, grabbing him by the front and slamming him through the front door, into the house. “Scott!” Lydia yells, turning to look at Stiles with wide, surprised eyes. Stiles returns the look before running after them. 

When he enters the house he spots Theo and Scott fighting on the floor, Theo on top, clawed hand slashing at Scott’s chest. Scott growls, grabbing at Theo’s throat in an attempt to get the upper hand. “Stop!” Stiles yells, grabbing Theo and pulling him off. Almost as soon as he does, Scott is lunging back at Theo and slamming him into the coffee table, breaking it in the process.

“Stop fighting!” Stiles yells as Theo hops back up and attempts to grab at Scott’s throat again. Before he gets the chance Scott slashes him across the chest and goes in for another before Lydia can grab his arm to stop him. Theo nearly slams into Scott again before Stiles pulls him away, yelling, “Theo!”, because he doesn’t know what the hell else to say to make this stop before someone gets killed. 

Theo breaks away from Stiles’ grip easily, tackling Scott to the floor and nearly knocking Lydia over in the process before she has the chance to catch herself on the side of the couch. “He doesn’t want you!” Scott yells, blocking once of Theo’s swipes, “You hurt him!”

“He’s _mine_ , he’s staying with me!” Theo roars out, this time managing to claw at a spot above Scott’s chest that dangerously close to his neck. 

“Stop!” Stiles repeats, watching as Scott punches up at Theo and lands a hard hit on his nose. “Both of you, stop!” Stiles yells, but they ignore him in favor of rolling so Scott is on top, hands firm on Theo’s neck, looking so angry that he might actually choke him. Lydia grabs Scott by the back of the shirt quickly, though, leaving enough time for Theo to get to his feet. They look far from done, though, as they start circling eachother, bloodied and claws ready at their sides. “Someone fucking listen to me!” Stiles yells, but no one acknowledges that he even speaks. With a frustated yell, Stiles goes torwards Theo and attempts to pull him back, but Theo pushes him behind him and Stiles falls onto his ass a few feet away. 

They continue fighting as Stiles sits for a second, mind racing and heart about to thump out of his chest from adrenaline. His ears are ringing but he can make out growls and vicious yells as he looks around and spots the gun he dropped on the floor next to him.

Stiles picks it up and stands, holding it uncertainly between trembling fingers. Lydia is trying to pull Scott back, to reason with him, but Scott is clearly done listening to reason. Theo is on the other side of the couch, snarl taking over his features as he waits for Scott to come after him, aggression in his eyes. Just as Scott goes to jump over the couch and Theo raises a clawed hand, Stiles shoots up at the ceiling. 

The loud shot peirces the air and finally manages to get everyone’s attention. They all stop what they’re doing and look over to him, slightly confused. Stiles points the gun torwards them, saying, “Everyone just- _stop_.”

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Scott asks, face turning human again, revealing gentle, confused features. He puts his hands up slightly and looks down barrel the gun in worry.

“Stiles, just relax-“ Theo attempts to say, but Stiles turns the gun on him instead.

“Shut up,” he says. Theo looks a bit surprised but doesn’t attempt to speak again, crossing his arms over his chest instead and tilting his head. Stiles looks between all of them, and then says, “Will you guys just stop trying to kill eachother for two fucking seconds and stop arguing about _me_?” They all look at him expectantly. Stiles huffs out a frustrated breath and says, “I’m so sick of everyone deciding everything for me.”

“I just don’t want him to hurt you anymore,” Scott defends, voice worried as he takes a cautious step forward, hands still raised, “We just want to bring you home, you can’t stay with him.”

“Scott, you’re not listening to me!” Stiles yells in frustration, increasingly more annoyed by Scott not hearing a word he’s saying. He’s felt that anger building up for months and now that it’s coming out, it’s hard to stop himself. “He’s not hurting me, okay? How many times can I tell you that before you believe me?”

Scott bites his lip, thinking for a quick moment before saying, “I-I know it probably feels like that, but Stiles, he manipulated you and kept you captive-”

Stiles huffs again and looks away, not knowing how the hell to possibly get through to Scott. He simply does not want to hear the other side of the story, he doesn’t want to believe that Theo is anything but a monster. “This is a waste of time.” Theo says at last, arms still crossed angrily over his chest. Stiles looks back up at him. “Come on, Stiles, you don’t want to go back with them. What do you think will happen if they find out what you did?”

Stiles tenses and glares at Theo, but it’s too late to take it back as Lydia takes a step forward and asks in a concerned voice, “What is he talking about, Stiles?”

Stiles looks down at the floor, purposefully ignoring Scott and Lydia’s increasingly more distressed faces. He takes a deep breath and figures they have to know; maybe it’s better they know so they don’t have to waste anymore time trying to ‘save’ him. “I- I killed someone.”

He doesn’t miss the way Scott’s eyes widen in shock, something eerily similar to disappointment crossing his face. Any hope once visible on him disappears in that moment and the cabin is perfectly silent for a long moment, the only sounds heard being the howling winds getting louder and louder outside. Scott is the one to break the silence when he asks in a weak voice, “Why? W-What happened?”

Stiles’ hand shakes where he holds the gun, lowering it just a bit. He looks over at Theo, who is staring at him expectantly, like he’s daring Stiles to explain what happened and somehow make the pack forgive him. Stiles knows that will never be possible, but he explains anyways in a weak voice, “One of Theo’s betas found us, and- and I recognized him...” He doesn’t bother explaining how he recognized him, Scott and Lydia both seem to understand what he meant, “So I- I killed him.”

His words hang heavy in the air for what feels like a long time before Scott gains his composure and says, “Stiles... it’s- it’s okay,” he swallows, looking a little unsure as he continues, “You’re- you’re still hurt from everything that happened to you.” Stiles narrows his eyes in confusion, “It’s- you were probably just.. _scared_ , and..”

“What, no, Scott, that’s not-“

“No, really, it’s okay, Stiles,” Scott interrupts, “You went through..a lot.”

“Scott-“

“Stiles, it’s okay, it’s-“

“Scott!” Stiles cuts him off with a yell. Scott closes his mouth and actually takes a small step backwards in surprise. Stiles pants out a breath, and says, “I’m not broken! I didn’t do it because I was scared, or because I didn’t know what I was doing. I did it-“ Scott stares at him with furrowed brows, “I did it because I wanted him dead.”

After admitting that Stiles’ clenches his jaw shut, not really meaning to admit that, not exactly sure he felt that way until just this moment. Scott backs off a bit, gaze falling to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye Stiles sees Theo’s triumphant little smirk. “I told you they wouldn’t understand,” Theo says, voice suddenly sympathetic as he uncrosses his arms and takes a small step forward, “Stiles, they don’t understand you like I do,” he takes another step torwards Stiles, making Stiles grip onto the gun a little tighter in warning, though he and Theo both know he’d never shoot. “You don’t need them to accept you. You can end this all right now.”

Stiles furrows his brows, but Theo quickly goes on, “Having them around will only hurt you,” he briefly looks over at Scott and Lydia, who’s eyes are both widened and still very worried. “Kill them, Stiles.“

“No.” Stiles says firmly, knowing exactly what Theo is trying to do. Theo swallows and crosses his arms again. “Fucking stop, I’m not killing them and neither are you.”

“Stiles,” Lydia says, making both Stiles and Theo turn to her. She glances wearily at Theo, but focuses on Stiles as she says calmly, “You told me everything that happened to you, remember? I may not be able to understand, but I know. And I know that-” she purses her lips, but does continue, “that you felt like you were in love. But you know that this isn’t healthy. You know you shouldn’t stay here, with him.”

Stiles sighs, lowering the gun to his side and casting his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I know that,” he mutters, because he does. It’s completely toxic, completely codependent, completely _wrong_. He shakes his head, looking back up at Lydia and saying, “I don’t care.”

“Stiles, _please_ ,” Scott says, finally looking up. His eyes are red like he might start crying as he steps closer, completely ignoring the gun still in Stiles’ hand. “Please, don’t stay with him. We’re your family, there’s nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive you for. We can still work all this out. We can help you, you don’t have to stay with him because you think there’s nowhere else to go. Please..” he trails off, voice quaking, “Please come home.”

“I can’t Scott.” Stiles says, voice hitching as unshed tears threaten to leave his eyes, “I want to, but I can’t. Things can’t be the same as before, and-and I know it’s not your fault. Everything’s just different now- _I’m_ different now. I can’t just come back and pretend that I’m the same anymore, it’s too hard. I’m sick of not having any control over anything, so let me have control over this.” He lets in a shaky breath and manages, “I’m sorry.”

Scott shakes his head as a tear rolls down his cheek. He looks down and wipes it with the back of his sleeve. “I can’t just leave you with him.”

“... it’s not your decision.” Stiles says, raising the gun slightly. Scott looks at it with hurt eyes before he casts them back to Stiles pleadingly. “Go, Scott. Both of you. Please.” He pleads desperately, voice hitching uncontrollably.

“Stiles...” 

“ _Please_ ,” Stiles repeats, hands shaking. Another loud howl of wind whistles outside, making the house tremble. “Please, just let me make a decision.”

Scott stares at him for a long time before he weakly nods his head, another tear falling from his cheek as he does. “I- I can’t make you leave him?” Stiles shakes his head, glancing momentarily at Theo. Theo’s arms are uncrossed again and he’s watching Stiles carefully, not saying anthing though. Stiles looks back to Scott and Lydia, and knows that as much as he loves them, he can’t leave Theo. He _needs_ Theo.

Scott hesitates, as if trying to come up with anything else to say to stop this or at least to keep arguing. Stiles raises the gun and points it at him, though they all know he’s not actually going to shoot anyone. The gun is just an illusion of control, and both Scott and Lydia seem to get what he means. He says anyways, trying his best to keep the shakiness from his voice, “I already made up my mind. Just go.”

Lydia is the one who steps forward first, looking less upset then Scott and more understanding. “Okay.” She says. She looks back to Scott who’s still just standing in the middle of the livingroom among the broken shards of the coffee table. He looks back over at Theo with pain-fueled anger in his eyes. Lydia notices as well and swiftly reasons with him, “Scott, there’s nothing we can do.”

Scott stays still only a second longer before looking at Stiles with tear filled eyes and nodding. “O-okay.”

Stiles releases a huffed out breath, feeling a tear fall down his cheek. This feels like a goodbye, and Stiles never imagined he’d have to say goodbye to his pack, to Scott and Lydia, to his old life. Yet he keeps the gun pointed on them as they make their way to the front door cracked from them slamming through it earlier. Just before they leave, Scott stops in the doorway and looks Stiles over. “If you-“ he sniffs, “If you ever change your mind...”

Stiles teeth tremble and clatter against eachother, more tears falling down his face as he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Scott lingers for only a second before he disappears, following behind Lydia. Stiles lowers the gun and listens carefully as they get into their car and start the engine. The moment he hears the car pull away he drops the gun and starts sobbing. 

Theo is quick to wrap his arms around him and pull him in close. Stiles rests his head on Theo’s shoulder, sobs shaking through his body. “It’s okay.” He runs comforting fingers through Stiles’ hair, “You made the right choice, you don’t belong with them.” He pulls away slightly and pulls Stiles’ back by his shoulders to look at him. Stiles attempts to calm himself with quivering breaths but can’t really stop the sobs. “You belong with me. I need you, Stiles.” He looks Stiles’ face over and repeats, “I need you.”

Stiles shakily exhales and leans back into Theo’s embrace. Theo holds him tight, tighter than normal like he’s afriad if he lets him go he’ll be gone. But Stiles knows now that that’s not true. He doesn’t know if he’s capable of leaving Theo; doesn’t even know if he wants to. Stiles rests against Theo for a long time, listening to the sharp winds from outside. “I need you too..” he whimpers against Theo’s shirt, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

 

“This isn’t everything.” Tracy words echo through the nearly empty office as she drops a duffle bag full of money on to shiny wooden coffee table and returns to leaning against the desk behind the leather couch. The beta sitting in the leather chair across from the couch swallows thickly, shoulders hunched in and eyes cast intently onto the wooden floor. Tracy turns to the couch and says, “It’s only five thousand.”

Theo leans forward where he’s sitting on the couch, hands clasped together, familar smug look on his face. “I thought we agreed on ten thousand.”

The beta sighs, rubbing his hands together nervously. He cautiously looks up at Theo and says, “Yeah, I know, I just...” he huffs nervously, “This is all I could get. B-but I can get more, alright?”

Theo hums, making beta look even more nervous. “Maybe. But I gave you a month to get me ten thousand. How do I know you’ll be able to get me more in another month?” He looks down at the bag and sighs, saying, “I don’t like to be disappointed.”

“Please!” The beta pleads, leg shaking anxiously up and down. “I-I won’t disappoint you again, okay, just please give me another month, I swear I’ll get you everything I owe you.”

Theo tilts his head, noticing the desperation but not letting up. “I don’t know. Month seems like an awful long time to wait for something I could do right now. Maybe I should just save us time and put you out of your misery right-“

“You have thirty days.” Stiles chimes in finally from the chair next to the couch. Theo turns to him and tilts his head, but Stiles ignores him in favor of saying to the beta, “The full ten thousand or you won’t get another chance to pay anything back.”

The beta, with wide eyes, turns to Theo for approval. Theo stares at Stiles for a moment, but Stiles only stares back, eyes narrows. Theo sighs after a second and says, “Fine. Thirty days. That’s all you have.”

The beta can’t hide his sigh of relief as he quickly gets to his feet and repeats “thank you,” profusely. Tracy walks him to the office’s door, and Theo casts one more look at Stiles before he follows. Stiles stands as Theo says something to Tracy, walking over to the cart behind the slick, expensive desk. He opens the half-drank bottle of whiskey and pours himself a glass. He hears the door close behind him and knows that it’s just he and Theo alone now. When he turns Theo is leaning against one of the leather arm chairs with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” Stiles asks coyly, taking a long sip of the burning amber liquid. 

Theo rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?” He asks, stepping away from the chair and over to the opposite side of the desk. He leans his hands flat on the desk and looks Stiles over.

“I’m being smart. Don’t waste your energy on some beta that owes you money.” Stiles says, taking another sip of whiskey. He looks out the office’s window, out at the docks, and for some reason he thinks of the those huge windows in Theo’s old apartment. It’s weird to think about that, as things have changed so drastically since then. It’s been nearly a year and a half since Theo found him again, but it feels like it's been ten.

After the night Scott and Lydia found him and let him go, he and Theo spent months on the road, moving from state to state, never staying in one place too long before moving on to someplace new. They evetually found a permanent place in a quiet fishing town out east, a pretty drastic change from the city, but a good, discrete place for the business to run again. It took a while, but things are up and running successfully now, and Stiles actually has a pretty active part in it.

The day Scott and Lydia left was the last time he saw them. The only person he’s kept in contact with is his dad, and only over email every few weeks, just to give him piece of mind. It’s hard not to miss them sometimes, but he knows it’s a good thing. They didn’t need someone like him around anymore, especially not with what he’s done.

Before they settled here, they took a detour back to California and took care of every single wolf, wendigo, and monster that raped him. He felt guilty doing it at first, but after it was over it was really hard not to feel really good. He found himself sleeping better at night knowing they weren’t around, knowing that they got what they deserved. And despite how much he will always care for them, the pack would never accept him after something like that. Theo, on the other hand, embraces the bad side of him.

He and Theo’s relationship got a lot better after the pack were out of the picture. Theo trusted him a hell of a lot more after Stiles chose to stay with him, and Stiles got some control over their situation back. They struck up some sort of strange balance between them. What they have is nothing Stiles would ever call healthy, but it works for them. 

Theo tilts his head to the side and steps away from the desk, torwards Stiles. “You’re distracted. What’re you thinking about?”

Stiles puts his glass down on the desk and shrugs. “Us, kind of.” He answers.

Theo smirks and wraps his hands around Stiles’ waist to pull him close. “Us?” He asks, gaze falling to look over Stiles’ lips. “What about us?”

Stiles knows that what he and Theo have is something that stemmed from a place of fear and trauma. It may not even be real love, but Stiles is strangely okay with that. Things aren’t perfect, and Stiles knows that they never will be, but they’re better than they were a year and a half ago. Stiles felt broken then. He felt like he’d never heal, like he’d spend the rest of his life trying to fit into his pack’s idea of how he should be. It’s peaceful to finally feel okay after so long of being in pain. Stiles leans forward and presses his lips against Theo’s. 

Theo kisses him back, running a hand through his hair as he does. After a moment they both pull away, and Theo fixes him with an adoring look. “Let’s go home,” he says quietly.

Stiles pulls away and nods. Theo gives him a grin before grabbing his coat from off the back of the couch and starts walking towards the door. Home. It took Stiles a long time to associate that word with anything other than the pack, than his dad. But now when he hears it he thinks of laying in bed with Theo, head rested against the alpha’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat until he falls asleep. Stiles hesitates for only a second, glancing down at the golden ring still snug on his finger before following behind him.

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end!
> 
> I know, I can’t believe it either. Not only did I complete a fic, I completed a sequel fic! I’m super proud of myself for staying so committed to this story, thought at times I felt like straying away. Ultimately, I hope you guys enjoyed this journey with me. Thank you so much for enduring the long amounts of time between uploads, I was super particular about what would go into this fic and was a bit hard on myself in terms of writing. Still, I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> What did everybody think of this ending? Unlike the first part, where I wasn’t sure how to end and ended up going more ambigious (though that’s mainly because I had this sequel in mind while writing) this one I knew for sure how I wanted this to end up and what would happen to Stiles and Theo’s relationship. Some may be disapointed, but I do believe the majority will understand my thought process and where I’m coming from with this ending. Please let me know!
> 
> Wow, I started this series in the Summer of 2017, and I can’t believe it’s actually coming to an end. It’s a bit scary, but I’m very excited to start some new fics. This is the final part in this particular universe (although you never know....), but I promise I’ll keep writing Steo! 
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the support and encouragement, I really hope everyone enjoyed :) 
> 
> ALSO leave me some new fic ideas if you’d like to see me write something specific next :))


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